


Harry Potter and The Perfect Boyfriend

by Titti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mention of Religious Myths, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: Harry wants to come out without putting a potential boyfriend through the insanity that comes from dating him and that's why he hires Draco to be his pretend boyfriend.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 216
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	Harry Potter and The Perfect Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musingsofaretiredunicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingsofaretiredunicorn/gifts).



> Switching POV. It starts in the summer of 2005 and goes to spring 2006 much like the books.
> 
> Dear Retiredunicorn, this story started with a prompt and then it went completely a different way, but I tried to put as many of your likes as I could. Merry Christmas!

"Come on, you know the drill, Malfoy."

It was an ordinary August afternoon, when Harry heard the words. He turned around just in time to see blond hair being pushed into one of the holding cells on the Patrol floor. No real criminal was ever kept here. It was the petty offenders, people who were usually out after paying a fine or after spending a few hours to sober up. The paperwork took longer than the penalty most times, but they still had to go through the process.

"I should have a little discount for all the times you bring me in. Maybe we can settle this in another way," Draco said from the room.

Definitely not drunk, Harry realized. He didn't bother listening for the answer, but grabbed the arm of one of the patrolmen who was walking by. "Do you know why Malfoy was brought in?"

The patrolman looked young. Not that at twenty-five Harry was old, but he felt ancient, especially when he saw this year's recruits, people who hadn't even started Hogwarts when they had defeated Voldemort. On second look, the patrolman looked like he couldn't decide if he should be in awe or laugh his arse off. 

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter, now spit it out," Harry said, figuring that this would end the internal dilemma.

"Sir… well, everyone knows why he's here. He works in Knockturn Alley," the patrolman said.

"I don't remember that being against the law," Harry snapped, losing his very limited patience, and anyone who said that you became more patient with age was certainly lying.

"No, not in a shop. He works… you see, he works the streets. Everyone knows."

"He's a … prostitute?" Harry had been going after Dark Wizards since he was eleven, and working as an Auror since he was eighteen. He'd stopped being surprised by the things people did a long time ago, but this surprised him. "Apparently not everyone knows," he muttered, before shaking his head. "Thank you."

Harry walked out of the room. His business, after hours mind you, with the Head of Patrol was done, something that Robards should have been dealing with, but his boss was getting tired of all the bureaucracy and Harry dreaded the day he'd retire, knowing that he'd be offered the position. Harry wasn't ready to stop working the streets yet — not that he was working the streets the same way Draco Malfoy was.

Draco Malfoy!

Harry hadn't thought about the other man in a long time, since the end of 1998, when he had testified in favour of the Malfoy family. The three had been found guilty, but their sentence had been commuted to fines. Very hefty fines. Harry knew that they had lost the manor and Lucius had gotten progressively worse from the exposure to the Dementors and Cruciatus. He was now a permanent resident in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. Neville had mentioned that Lucius and his father had beds next to each other. Think as he might, Harry couldn't come up with any other information about the Malfoys.

Except now he had new information. "Malfoy is a prostitute," he blurted out as he sat down at his desk. He had a partner, or Robards wanted him to have a partner, but Harry had gone through more people than he could count. Due to his revolving partners, he'd kept his desk next to Ron's, who kept threatening to quit like Neville. He still hadn't.

"If you start, I will move desks," Ron said. "In fact I'll move to the opposite side of the room."

"No, you won't, and start what?" Harry asked.

"That. The obsession you have with Malfoy," Ron said.

"I don't have an obsession. The fact that everyone seems to know that he's a prostitute and I didn't proves that." It was obvious that he wasn't obsessed. "Did you know?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Ron asked with a frown.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Harry said exasperated.

"Because it's been on the Daily Prophet at least once a week every week since his conviction? Great detective skills there," Ron said, smugly. 

"You know I don't read the Daily Prophet. It's a matter of principle," Harry said.

"It's a stupid principle," Ron said. "I'm not saying that you should buy it. Read the ones lying around. If you did, you'd know about Malfoy."

Harry picked up a tube and pulled out the parchment in there. He started to look over a cold case. When he didn't have anything urgent, he liked to go back to cold cases and the few Death Eaters that had disappeared, but after seven years, there weren't many left, but they were still dangerous as far as he was concerned. He made it a whole ten minutes before he raised his head.

"Why do you think he does it?" Harry asked.

"Who?" Ron asked, and Harry wasn't sure if Ron didn't understand or was pretending on purpose, just to annoy him. Or to drive a point home. Harry could ignore either possibility.

"Malfoy. Why is he a prostitute?" No matter how many times he said it, it simply didn't ring possible. 

"But you're not obsessed," Ron said, before sighing. "Lack of money, lack of job prospects, no other choice. I don't think people like him decide to become a street whore because it's rewarding."

"He's not-." Harry snapped his mouth shut, because even in his head, he knew how stupid he sounded. Draco _was_ a street whore, but if anyone other than Ron had used those words, he'd have hexed them. "What do you think it'll happen?"

Ron put down his quill and stared at Harry. "I have absolutely no idea what you're on about. Are we talking about the future of the world? Of a particular country? Quidditch? Yaxley's trial? You'll have to be slightly more specific."

"Malfoy! What do you think it'll happen to him?"

Ron shrugged. "From what I hear, he doesn't have enough money to pay the fine, so he'll spend a few nights in jail and they'll release him."

"If he's not working, he can't make money," Harry pointed out.

"So… should Patrol let him out so he can illegally prostitute himself so he can make money to pay the fees for said illegal work?" Ron asked, confused. "Harry, please stop. It's almost seven. We don't have any active cases. We should go home."

"We volunteered to do the evening shift," Harry said with a smile.

"I know, so you go home and I'll stay and if anything happens, I'll firecall you. Go get drunk, go find someone to shag. Just do something that doesn't involve us talking about Malfoy," Ron finished with a sigh.

"I'll go back to my cold case," Harry said.

"Good, but if you mention Malfoy, you aren't getting Mum's roast this Sunday."

Harry knew a serious threat when he heard one and he stopped mentioning Draco. For another fifteen minutes. After that, he got up and went back to Patrol. He paid Draco's fine without speaking to the man and went back to his work. Now, he could go back to his Draco-free life.

***

Darkness has descended on Knockturn Alley in an early September night. Hidden between two buildings, Draco had learned to pay attention to all the noises, while on his knees sucking cock. In fact, he could do his shopping list, think about the next client and generally plan a million other things. His 'clients' didn't pay him enough to have his attention.

When he was done, the man walked away. Draco always made sure to get paid beforehand. He got up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can come out, Potter."

"How did you know?" Harry asked with a frown as he took off his invisibility cloak.

"Twenty-five-year-old and still playing with that cloak, but to answer your question, I've always known when you're around," Draco answered as he tried to fix his robes, but no amount of pulling and straightening would turn the rag he was wearing into proper robes. "If you're here to arrest me, can we speed it up? I might just make it back out before dawn."

"I’m not interested in arresting you," Harry said.

"I see. So just a voyeur?" Draco hoped to get a reaction, but Harry barely rolled his eyes. This had been a lot more fun when he had been able to get under Harry's skin. "I hear I have to thank you for paying my fine last week."

"How did you- I haven't-"

"Eloquent as always, and to answer the question you haven't been able to ask, when Harry Potter pays the fine for yours truly, people talk. In fact, I'm more surprised that it didn't make it into the Daily Prophet. Patrol must really like you," Draco said.

"I wouldn't know. I don't read the Prophet," he said with a sigh. "If people stopped buying that paper, things would be better."

"Don't be daft, Potter. If people stopped buying that paper, there'd be another one writing the same rubbish." He stepped closer. "Now, would you like to tell me why you were spying on me or can I go?"

Harry looked around as if he was looking for something. "Let's go somewhere."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are you _really_ trying to get yourself in the papers? It's almost eleven, only the pubs are open and you want to go there with me, what is wrong with you? Seriously?"

Harry grabbed Draco's arm and the familiar feeling came over as they Disapparated. When they arrived, they were just outside of Hogsmeade. "Students just arrived yesterday, so they aren't allowed to leave and no one walks to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"I know how Hogwarts works, but thank you for explaining it to me," Draco snapped. "Now, what do you want?"

"I didn't know what you were doing," Harry started speaking just as they began to walk toward the school. "Until last week."

"How's that possi- You don't read the Daily Prophet," Draco said, when Harry's thought process became clearer. "That's why you just commented on it. Someone must have mentioned it to you."

Harry smiled a little. "The real question is how is it possible that we haven't seen each other in almost seven years and we sound like we used to?"

Draco snorted. "Nonsense. If we did, we'd be hexing each other. Still we might not know each other, but we understand how the other thinks."

"We didn't want to hex each other that last year," Harry said with his trademark stubbornness.

"You weren't in school that last year," Draco pointed out, "but we didn't want to hex each other at the end, I'll admit that much." They had both been too worried about the Dark Lord, but for very different reasons. "You still haven't said why you were watching me?"

"I wasn't. I mean I was, but I hadn't planned to," he said. "I was looking for you. Some bloke in Patrol said you liked that little hiding place."

Draco shrugged. "It's almost all the way to the end of the alley, and people who come there, come on purpose either for sex or to make an arrest. It's a bit safer than other places. So why were you looking for me? If you want your money back, you'll have to wait, because-"

"No, nothing like that. I-." Harry sighed again, making Draco wonder how bad this could be. "I want to hire you."

Draco stopped in his tracks. He collected his thoughts before catching up with Harry again. He pondered how to explain the facts of life to Potter, who seemed just as clueless about life as he was in school. "How should I put this? I'm not that kind of an… escort, Potter."

"How many kinds are there? You pay, you have sex, you're done," Harry answered.

"Are you truly this stupid?" Draco asked.

"Do you always insult your Johns?" Harry answered.

"Often, but they are too stupid to understand it," Draco answered with a smirk. 

"I learned to know when you were insulting me even when I didn't know why what you were saying was offensive," Harry answered. "But going back to my original point, I don't need any specific kind of escort. I need to know if- If I'm bi, and I need to find out with someone who won't sell the story to the Daily Prophet, or turn it into some conquest story for his friends."

"You can get that with anyone. You just need the right oaths," Draco said. 

"I know this will sound stupid, but I can't, not with someone I don't know or I don't trust." Harry stopped and clasped his fingers around Draco's arm. "I'll give you twenty galleons. Not tonight, I have to be up early, but Friday night and you spend the whole night with me."

Draco choked on air. His clients paid in sickles. Twenty galleons would set him up for a few weeks, taking care of any fines, making it to the end of the month without worrying about food. "You're mad, Potter, but you have a deal."

Harry smiled brightly. "Good. It's 12 Grimmauld Place in London. Then I'll see you Friday."

Draco didn't know what was happening and decided not to question it too hard. Instead he Disapparated and went home. It was easier to keep going than to try to understand Potter.

***

"This is Aunt Walburga's house, isn't it?" Draco said as he stepped inside. The address had been familiar from the war, but the snakes that defined the décor were a dead giveaway. "I thought you were living in Godric's Hollow."

"I was. I fixed my parents' house, but people kept showing up at the house, reporters, Muggles were starting to get curious. It was a mess. I ended up selling it to this nice family with two children," Harry said with a smile. "I'd like to think that my parents would have liked that."

"And you decided that you should live here and- what exactly did you think? Because this house looks awful," Draco said, scrunching his nose.

Harry looked around as if seeing for the first time what Draco was seeing. "It's safe. It's unplottable, under Fidelius and it has more spells than Hogwarts. Most people who know about it are either members of the Order or they are Death Eaters, dead or in jail, so I don't have to worry about people spying on me. The décor? It's terrible, but anytime I think about changing it, I think about Sirius-."

"Didn't he hate this house? Mother always said he did," Draco pointed out.

"He did," Harry answered.

"So you are keeping a décor you hate to remember a man who hated the décor. Yes, that makes so much sense." He stopped in the hallway. "So where are we going? You'll have to lead the way."

"Kreacher made dinner if you like," Harry said. 

Draco shrugged. "Your money and your time, we can do whatever you want."

"Follow me." As they began to move, the portrait of Mrs. Black came alive, screaming after Harry. "Maybe it is time that I change things around," he muttered as he led Draco down to the basement and the kitchen. "I'm afraid there's nothing fancy. Kreacher is a good cook, but he doesn't do fancy."

Draco snorted. "Oh well, in that case I'll have to refuse!" He rolled his eyes. "You might have missed it, but I don't exactly party with the rich and famous anymore. Simple will do just fine."

The meal ended up being delicious and Draco ate so much that he was afraid he'd get sick. It also took over an hour, as they sat and talked about people they knew as if they were friends. It was weird, but Draco's job required him to do what the clients wanted, so he went along.

Harry's eyes had been on him the entire time. It was almost like they were back in Sixth Year. "If you like to watch me so much, we can go to your room," he said as he reached for one of the chocolates that had appeared with their tea.

"We can finish the tea and the chocolates. You still like them; that's your forth," Harry said.

Draco stopped and looked at the chocolate in his hand. "I guess I do. I can't usually afford them. Rent, bills, fines, there's not much room for fine chocolate. You remember," he added as an afterthought, but it was nice to know that someone cared enough to remember. Most of his friends had disappeared, too worried with their families' legal problems.

Harry shrugged. "It's difficult to forget. Your mother used to send you all those sweets. You came alive when you saw her packages."

Draco laughed. "You were a stalker, and she's fine. She got a job as a governess. One of the Rosiers married to some Bulstrode girl, not Millicent. They don't have house-elves, third son and all. She gets room and board and she does love children, but it keeps her busy so I don't see her as much as I'd like."

"That sucks. I know how much she loves you," Harry said

"Stalker," Draco repeated with a grin.

"So were you." Harry tapped his fingertips on the wooden table, before looking back up at Draco. "I know I've said it before, but we weren't friends, we haven't seen each other in years, and I still feel like we know more about each other than with most people. Except Ron and Hermione."

"In a way we do. We might know not the minutiae of daily life, but we learned who the other was at his core. You are the brave Gryffindor and I was the coward who did anything to survive. Seven years later things haven't changed." Draco sighed, before changing the subject. "How are Weasley and Granger? I hear she'll end up becoming more important than you if you don't watch out."

Harry laughed. "She should. Neither Ron nor I have any interest in becoming Minister. She does, and she's smart. She'll do a good job when the time is right."

"Have you told them?" Draco asked.

"About us? Merlin no, they already think I'm obsessed."

Draco laughed. "You are, but no I meant about possibly being bi."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione told me. She figured it out before I did, sat me and Ron down and told us. I don't think she expects me to do this. She was talking about dates and flowers, but I can't do it. I can't put anyone through that unless I'm sure, you know? It isn't fair to be a test subject while being scrutinized by the press. Not that you should be a test subject. This- us- it'll be just us and if I figure out that Hermione is wrong, not that she ever is, you still get paid and no one has to know anything."

"I get it, Potter. You're right that any relationship of yours will become public knowledge. It makes sense that you want to figure out if being with a man is something you want to do." Draco hadn't had that luxury, but he couldn't fault Harry for doing it this way. "Should we go then?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's go."

***

Harry woke up slowly, sated and relaxed in a way he hadn't in years. Then remembered why he was so relaxed and reached out blindly before opening his eyes. "Malfoy?" he asked when he saw the empty place next to him.

"Sir is in the kitchen," Kreacher said as a robe floated toward the bed. "Sir is cooking."

"Is he? And are we all right with that?" Harry asked, never sure what Kreacher thought of things.

"Sir is a proper Black. Kreacher be fine with that." He waited for Harry to get up and put the robe on and Disapparated.

Harry tied the belt around him before running his fingers through his hair. It was as good as any brush. He looked at his reflection as he walked out of the room. He didn't look different. He didn't feel different. He thought this would be some magical revelation, but instead he was still Harry. 

He could admit that the sex had been amazing. He realized that he was attracted to men as well as women, which meant that Hermione was right, of course. That part was hardly surprising, but he thought that it would feel strange or weird or awkward, but sex with Draco felt… natural. His inner thoughts were disturbed by the amazing smell that made his stomach growl. Never be said that Harry was one for introspection. "Merlin, it smells good."

"You're up, good. It's ready," Draco said, turning his head around and smiling at Harry. "Proper fry up."

"I can't believe you can cook," Harry said as he went to the cooling cupboard and got cold water and milk for the tea. He moved around Draco to help set up as if they always did this. "I thought you had left."

"You haven't paid me," Draco answered. "And I was hungry."

"Are you always this trusting?" Harry asked as they floated the serving dishes to the table. Draco laughed and Harry found that he really liked the sound.

"I don't trust anyone, Potter. I get paid in advance, but you're hardly going to disappear on me, you don't want me to make a scene in the middle of the Ministry or to go to the press, and I'm in your house. I doubt you can get away with not paying me," he said with a grin as he sat down. "So…" He moved his food around, letting it cool a little. "Any big revelation?"

"Definitely bi," Harry said.

Draco nodded. "Good to know. So what's next? Fighting for equal rights? Cover of Wizard's Wand? What does this new-found knowledge mean in the life of the great Harry Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't thought that far. I was more interested in seeing if Hermione was wrong for once," he said with a huff. "I should have known better. What about you? Did figuring out that you're gay change anything?" He frowned when Draco lowered his eyes and stayed silent. "What's wrong?"

Draco sighed. "I don't know if I'm gay."

"But you-"

"I take it up the arse for a living, yes I know," he said with a flash of anger that reminded Harry of their school days, but it was short-lived. "I was a virgin after the war. I had fooled around, but never really gone all the way, then sixth year happened, and Pansy wasn't my main concern, then seventh year happened, the trial. Then I found myself with no money. My mother could only send me so much and I was in the street when a man offered. It was my first time sucking cock. Then there was my first fuck. I never had the luxury to know if it's what I like. It's what supports me."

"Don't you get- Don't you get off? You did last night," Harry said with a frown.

"First time with a client," he admitted. "Normally, it's just something to get through so I can move onto the next one. Besides, I conduct my business in the Alley, not exactly the place that leads to drawn out sex."

"Why didn't you say something?" Harry asked, a little horrified. It had been bad enough that he was paying for sex, but the idea that Draco might not enjoy it made his stomach clench.

"And what would have changed?" Draco asked. "We aren't dating, Potter. You paid for sex and we had sex. At least you cared enough to make it good for me, more than most."

"So … are you straight? Bi?" Harry asked, very confused.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know what I am. Before I never had sex for pleasure and now- I can't say that I'm attracted to men or women. Enough stimulation and I can get an orgasm, but I can't think of sex as pleasure. I don't enjoy it and it's a job."

Harry looked a little horrified at the admission. "I enjoy my job," Harry murmured. "It's not right. You should be with someone you enjoy, even if it is a job. You enjoyed last night," he added stubbornly.

"Still the idealist, I see, but life isn't fair or right," Draco said bitterly, but then he smiled, even if it didn't reach his eyes. It looked more like resignation than happiness. "Last night was different. I- I enjoyed it. It wasn't just… physical stimulation. That's my revelation for the day, and maybe one day I'll figure out what I like even when the Chosen One isn't involved, right?" 

"Yeah, maybe one day," Harry answered with a soft smile, not sure that he liked the possibility that Draco would never figure out what he liked, not after he'd helped Harry come to terms with who he was. "I'm glad you enjoyed last night, though. Or as much as you could."

Draco chuckled. "Fishing, Potter? But yeah, it was… it was different. I've never really come with a John, or anyone other than my hand. Of course you'd have to be the exception to the rule."

"Always am," Harry answered with a one-shoulder shrug, but for once, there was no bitterness.

"Good to know some things don't change, and now we should eat before it gets cold."

Harry let Draco eat in peace, avoiding any more personal questions, and when he handed the pouch with the money, which Draco didn't count despite claiming that he didn't trust anyone, there were extra galleons because he felt guilty. And, when Draco finally left the house, Harry told himself that they were done, because he was not obsessed.

***

"Mate, you're obsessed," Ron said with a sigh. They were sitting in the Granger-Weasley living room, two weeks after the fatidic night with Draco. Ron was sitting on one side of the couch with Hermione's feet on his lap. They had very large wine glasses that they kept refilling, because tonight's post-dinner discussion revolved around the one and only Draco Malfoy and it required lots of alcohol. "Hermione, tell him."

"I have, while we were drinking the prosecco. I actually like this moscato better," she said, taking another sip.

"I can't believe you can keep up with him," Harry said, hoping to change the subject.

"Anyone marrying a Weasley better learn to drink or they die of alcohol poisoning. Hermione being the overachiever she is can drink more than the other spouses, that's all," Ron said with a grin. "And you're still obsessed."

Hermione sat up and crossed her legs. "Let me get this straight, so to speak, you've decided that you want to come out and to do that, you will pretend to be dating Malfoy, who is a prostitute. Yes, it still sounds crazy the tenth time I repeat that."

"There has to be someone else," Ron said. "I can ask patrol. He can't be the only one arrested for soliciting."

"I don't want someone else," Harry said, knowing that he was probably not helping his case. "I don't trust anyone else. He was there, Ron. He knows us; he knows what happened; he knows the house. Kreacher thinks he's acceptable because he's a Black. He's perfect, can't you see?"

Ron finished his glass before reaching for the bottle. As the good husband he was, he topped up Hermione's glass first and then filled his. "Harry, you know we love you, right? And we will support you as always when this hits the fan, which it will, but you can see why we're not sure that it's the way to go, right? You just said that Malfoy is perfect, and you're sober for fuck's sake. I need a lot more alcohol before I can listen to that."

"Seriously, Harry, this will be public," Hermione started.

"That's the point of coming out. You tell people." It was pretty simple as far as Harry was concerned.

"Right, but you can see why we're concerned. Once you come out, people will point out the history between you two, and his current and illegal profession," Hermione said. "It's not as-"

"Perfect," Ron interjected.

"Simple as you think it would be," Hermione finished.

"Nothing is ever simple with me, but if I come out with someone else, that person will still be crucified. The press will find something wrong with this hypothetical man, the people will find something wrong. How am I supposed to have a real relationship with all that scrutiny? Hell, how am I supposed to find someone when everyone will be focused on us after the first date?" Harry asked. "Instead, I can do this, and it's not real, so it's not like Malfoy and I will get hurt. It's really perfect." He ignored the scoff from Ron. "And if it is as bad as you think it will be, then the next relationship will be a breeze."

Ron sighed. "Stop arguing, Hermione. We'll never convince him, because he's obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed," Harry repeated.

"Sure you're not." Ron got up. "I think it's time to bring out the firewhiskey."

Harry groaned. He'd be so hungover the next day.

***

It was a normal day in early October, when Harry ran the steps two by two and he began knocking on the door so hard that the hinges squeaked and for a moment he thought that the door would come off, but he didn’t stop until the door opened. "Are you all right?" Draco didn't look all right at all. "Who did this to you?"

"Potter, what are you doing here?" Draco asked with a mix of surprise and fatigue.

"I was at work and I heard that Patrol saw you last night. Jones said that you looked so bad that the patrolmen didn't arrest you but took you to St. Mungo's, so I went there to check on you. They told me that they discharged you, because there was nothing magically wrong with you and nothing that a few potions couldn't fix, but when I checked the potion shops, you didn't buy anything, so I brought you some," he said as he stopped. All right, so he was a bit obsessed, but he was a good Auror and knew how to follow a trail. "In fact, you still look terrible." He'd been told exactly what was wrong with Draco: split lip, swollen eye, two hairline fractures in his ribs, black and blues consistent with the impact of boots against his torso, but none of that was magical and therefore St. Mungo's didn't worry about it.

"So much for privacy," Draco muttered. "Would you like to come in? Because I'm going back to bed."

Harry followed Draco inside and closed the door. The flat was one big room. Or not so big. The kitchen was on one side of the room, the bed on the other and a table for four in the middle. He could smell the mold, but couldn't really see it since the flat was dark, even though it was still the middle of the afternoon. The flat had one window above the stove and that was that. There was a door which must go to the bathroom. In sum, it looked terrible. "You live here?"

"No, I'm sleeping in some random person's bed," Draco said as he carefully sat on the bed, back against the wall, clearly to help with the breathing.

"Here, take these. It's what the Healer said you needed." He took four vials from the paper bag he was carrying. "I also have two more doses of pain potion, but you take those-"

"Every six hours. I know how potions work, Potter. Better than you, I'd say," Draco pointed out.

"Then why didn't you take them?" Harry asked. He wanted to throttle Draco for not taking care of himself.

"Did you buy them?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "How much did you pay for them? Actually don't tell me, because I might faint. Potter, I understand that you have your own vision of the world, but let's see if I can make this clear. I'm bloody poor, not the way I called Weasley poor, but really poor. I hate to see the look you got when you saw this flat. I hate that I could have been killed by some random man because he didn't think the blowjob I gave him was worth the asking price. I hate that if I complain, I'll never have any business, which is why I haven't filed a complaint, Potter. I hate that Patrolmen look at me with _pity_. Don't you think I know how many times they pretend not to see me? Because they feel sorry for me, because they know that I can't pay the fines and that means that I'm stuck in a cell not making money, which means I won't be able to make it to the end of the month. So this is why I didn't take the potions, because I can't afford them, and now that you've played your Saviour act, get the fuck out of my house. I don't let Johns in here."

Harry stood quietly and when he moved, he sat down at the table, facing Draco. "I'm not a John. I'm your friend."

Draco banged the back of his head against the wall. "No, we're not, Potter. We disliked each other in school, that's about it. Yes, we do know each other, but that doesn't make us friends."

"You're right," Harry said softly, "but there's always been a connection between us. You know more about me than most of my friends. I want to be friends."

"No, you don't. You're bored, the Death Eaters are in jail. You need someone else to save, so now you want a new project: me," Draco said.

"I do have a new project, but it's not you," Harry admitted. "Merlin, how the fuck did you know? But it's not because I'm bored, but because it's the right thing to do."

"Of course it is," Draco muttered. "Should I ask? Or will you tell me anyway?"

"I want to come out. I don't want people to think that there's anything wrong. I remember how Skeeter's book implied that there was something strange with Dumbledore because he liked men. I don't want people to have to feel like that," Harry started, his voice raising with each word. "I don't want to hide, and I don't want the world to talk about my relationships like there's anything wrong."

Draco shook his head. "Potter, when I asked if this was going to be your new mission, I didn't think so soon. We had sex three weeks ago. Three weeks! You've went from 'I don't know if I'm bi' to 'I want to end discrimination against homosexuals' in three weeks, but you've forgotten reality again. They haven't even seen you date a man and if you come out, whoever dates you will be destroyed."

Harry winced at the words. He rubbed the back of his head, hair moving everywhere. "Yes, that's where you come in."

An elegant eyebrow reminiscent of other times slowly arched up. "Excuse me?"

"I want to hire you," Harry started. "To be my boyfriend. My long-term boyfriend and we've decided to make it official. You'd have to move to my place, because I'm not moving into this flat, and no other Johns." That had to be clear, because there was fighting for a good cause and then there was creating useless battles. "You will get room and board, plus a stipend. I figured we can keep it up for a few months and then we break up. When we do, I'll help you find a new place and even pay for the first month rent and security."

Draco blinked. "I'm sorry, I think I've misheard or you've lost your mind. Do you know what the press will do to me?"

"Has the press been any kinder since the trial?" Harry asked back. "What do you have to lose? They are already terrible to you. I mean not that I know, but… I've been asking, and yeah, that's not right, the way they write about you, but you know how to handle them; you're certainly better with them than I am, and you'd have my support. You get to do whatever you want for a few months."

"Sounds like you get to do who you want for a few months," Draco answered.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're paying me to be your boyfriend for months, what do you think it means?" Draco asked, sounding exasperated and amused at the same time. It was a sound that Harry knew well from Hermione.

Harry needed a moment to work that out. It wasn't that he was stupid, but he got excited and his brain worked too fast for his mouth to keep up and he assumed that people followed along with his thought process. Apparently only Hermione and Ron could do that. "Oh… no… I didn't mean that. I meant what I said, pretend to be my boyfriend, no sex required. We just need to go to parties and such, and pretend, maybe talk to a few publications." Really it was a brilliant plan. He didn't know why everyone seemed to dislike it, and by everyone he meant the three people who knew about it.

"And you pay for the clothes? For me and you?" Draco asked.

"My clothes are just fine; Hermione tells me what to wear at public events." He still didn't understand why he couldn't wear jeans or Muggle trousers, but apparently he needed to support the wizarding economy. "But you can discuss it with her."

Draco stayed silent for a moment. "This is a terrible idea, Potter. Truly terrible and it will cause a shitstorm. I hope you're ready for what's to come."

Despite the words, Harry knew that he had won and smiled. "So when do you move in?"

"When I can move without feeling like I'm dying, and besides, I have to give proper notice." 

Harry could see that Draco was already planning in his head. It was a look Harry knew well although in the past, it usually meant trouble for Harry, but not this time. This would be perfect no matter what everyone thought. "Don't worry about the landlord, I'll deal with him." In fact, he'd have a few words with the man in question, but Draco didn't have to know that. "Kreacher can help you. You don't have to do anything, but tell him what you want done."

Draco hesitated again. "In that case, I don't have much to move as you can see. Mother has some of my things. They were safer with her than in here, but I can get them later. How about tomorrow? I'll be all right to Apparate by then."

"Or we can walk. The house is only about fifteen minutes from here, almost halfway to Kings Cross. I love that it's all so close, but it feels so far, you know? I can walk around and Muggles have no idea who I am."

"You never wanted to be famous," Draco said softly, "but you don't know how to live in anonymity."

Harry tensed up. "I don't know what you're on about, but I'm not looking to be famous or more famous."

"Calm down, Potter. I wasn't insulting you. You're just… you're you. You could go on, hide whatever lover you have until it becomes serious and then issue a simple statement and move on," Draco pointed out. "Instead, you're paying me to pretend that we're in a loving relationship ensuring that your name will be dragged to hell and back, all to fight some battle that I'm not sure anyone wants fought. People are tired, Potter."

"Accepting the status quo only makes people hate what's different. We've had enough of that. We shouldn't hate people because they are Muggleborns, women, bi, gay, or even purebloods. We have to fight that acceptance or nothing will ever change," Harry said resolutely. "Anyway, probably not the right moment to have a discussion on this. I'll let you rest. Kreacher will be here in the morning and I'll speak with the landlord. I'll see you around noon, and we can walk to the house together."

Draco nodded. "All right, and Potter, thank you for the potions. I do appreciate it."

Harry left with a big smile on his face.

***

Draco should have known better than to believe Harry. Kreacher showed up and apparently things with the landlord had been straightened out, but there was no Harry. Instead of walking together, Kreacher Apparated him straight into the house. All alone, he had time to see the house. With each new room, the surprise swelled. "Kreacher, when's the last time this house was renovated?" he asked as he finally went back to his room.

The bedroom was on the third floor, not too far from Harry's. There were other empty bedrooms on this floor as well two upstairs, several on the second floor and one on the first. "And why are there so many bedrooms?"

Kreacher continued his job of putting Draco's things away as he spoke. "The last time was in 1978. Before Master Orion and Master Regulus died. The rooms were not bedrooms. When Dumbledore arrived with Master Sirius, he brought the beds. No one cared what was there before. Master Harry never uses anything other than the kitchen, the bedroom and sometimes the drawing room."

Draco could tell that Kreacher disliked the situation and after a day in the house, he understood why. With Harry out all day and most of the house left unused, there was little to do. From what Draco could tell, Harry left really early, before Draco got up and came home after Draco went to sleep. Kreacher said that it had been normal after the war, but in the last few years, Harry had been keeping more regular hours until recently when the long shifts had started again.

With no one other than Kreacher around, Draco had to find his own entertainment. The first day was spent resting and looking around. The second day was spent reading. The third day he was already bored. He decided to turn one of the empty bedrooms on the other side of the third floor into a potion room. Kreacher got him the ingredients and cauldrons and he started brewing. 

He spent two days creating basic potions that Harry used according to Kreacher. He didn't feel bad about Harry paying through Kreacher, because the dunderhead bought his potions. Once Draco was done, Harry would have a decent stock for a quarter of the price. He also found the time to deal with the clothes they would need for their first official event together.

On day five, with no trace of the Chosen One and lots of screaming from Aunt Walburga, Draco decided to fix that problem. Harry had said that the portrait couldn't be removed from the wall, but really it couldn't be removed from the wallpaper. In Draco's humble opinion, that wallpaper should have been removed decades ago.

"How about white?" he asked as he stood in the hall. "Too boring for Potter. Maybe something with a hint of colour. Like mother of pearl feel to it," he said, turning to look at Kreacher. "What do you think?"

"Master won't like it," Kreacher said.

"Oh, nonsense. He just doesn't think about these things. Someone needs to do the thinking for him. For example, those heads." He smiled brightly, because he knew that you could force a house-elf to do what you wanted or you could trick him. Since he wasn't Kreacher's master, trickery would have to do. "He mentioned that they are part of your legacy and you should be able to display them in your room, but I'm sure he has forgotten to say anything."

"Master said that?" Kreacher asked, his eyes going wide.

"He did indeed. He mentioned something about you needing a proper room to receive any dates. I'm sure he must have told you about giving you permission to date. I mean what are you? Eighty? Not even middle age for a house-elf. It's only right that you settle down and have children, that's what he said." Of course Harry had said no such thing, but Draco couldn't imagine the other man not giving permission.

"Master must have forgotten. He… he doesn't think," Kreacher said carefully.

"That's right, he doesn't," Draco confirmed. "I think we should move the heads, we get rid of that troll leg stand, because that's just too old in terms of style and the bone is getting brittle. We don't want it breaking with guests around. That would be embarrassing," he said in his best Malfoy tone, one he hadn't used in seven years, but it was fun to play the part again. "Then we can remove the wallpaper in the hallway and the staircase, all floors naturally, and we can paint. We should go and buy the paint and several brushes. A few spells I know, and we should get it done in two days."

It ended up taking three days, because after buying everything, Kreacher was hesitating, but Draco made sure that the heads were gone that night. If Harry noticed when he came home or before he went off to work, he didn't find it important enough to mention it to Kreacher and the house-elf took Harry's silence to mean that his Master didn't object.

A week was gone and still no Harry in sight. Draco turned his attention to the rest of the house. He wasn't stupid enough to start redecorating everything, but he started to make a list of what he'd like to do, converting some of the bedrooms to their original function. That would require more than just paint, but new furniture and curtains. Still he slowly made a list with everything to show Harry if they ever saw each other again.

It happened on the morning of the tenth day. Draco came down for breakfast and found Harry sitting at the table, eating. "Is that you, Potter?"

Harry snorted. "I'm hurt. I work hard to support you in the style you are accustomed to and you forget all about me."

Draco huffed. "I didn't recognise you, because you look like shit and do slow down; you're eating like a starved animal."

"I've been living off on tea and biscuits mostly. Stakeouts are boring and often prevent you from getting food," Harry said.

Draco moved around the kitchen to get his own plate, but decided to get two, putting one done next to Harry and taking away the one he had finished. "You can still eat like a normal human being." Sitting in front of Harry, he started eating as well. "Everything all right now? Kreacher said this isn't normal anymore."

Harry nodded. "We just arrested the man we were looking for. Bartholomew Nott, do you know him?"

"He's Theo's second cousin," Draco answered with a sigh. "A few years older than us. His father died during the first war. I know he wanted to get involved when the Dark Lord-"

"Voldemort. You can say his name. The man is dead and buried and you need to stop calling him Lord. It's Voldemort or Tom Riddle if you want to be exact. Just another half-blood orphan."

Draco winced at Harry's words. "I don't know if I can- Voldemort," he said, softly, almost testing it out. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but absolutely nothing happened when he said it. His arm didn't hurt, there were no sudden appearances, the world didn't end. "Right where was I? Oh, he wanted to get involved, but his mother put a stop to that. She died last year."

"And he decided to become a dark wizard," Harry muttered. 

"So it's over," Draco said.

"Not quite, but I can't talk about it." Harry finally slowed down, looking at Draco. "So what happened to my hallway?"

Draco shrugged. "You didn't like it, I was bored. I tricked Kreacher into helping me, so don't blame him."

"Blame? For the first time in ten years, I've been able to walk into this house without Mrs. Black screaming. No heads, now troll leg stand? This is perfect. How did you do it?" Harry asked.

"Well, the painting only required that you take the wallpaper down." It had been so simple that he wasn't sure why they hadn't thought of it before. "The stand, I mentioned how terribly worn out the bone was and it'd be disgraceful if it broke with guests around. The heads are now in Kreacher's room since he's getting ready to date."

"He dates?" Harry asked with a frown.

"He doesn't, because there hasn't been anyone around to give him permission to date. In fact, he hasn't dated since 1979 when Aunt Walburga went into mourning. Then neither Sirius nor you thought about him enough to give him permission," Draco pointed out.

"I didn't know I was supposed to. Why doesn't anyone tell me these things?" Harry asked. "Hermione should have said something."

"Why should she? Why should she even know?" Draco asked. "She's a Muggleborn."

"Don't you start." Harry's voice got colder than a January night, but Draco wasn't affected.

"Start what? Pointing out the obvious? She's a Muggleborn, you weren't raised with wizards, you two don't know things that everyone knows. I bet if you asked Weasley, he'd tell you," Draco said. "This has nothing to do with supremacy and a lot to do with the way you were raised."

"Someone should still talk about these things," Harry exclaimed.

"Why? They are normal everyday things for us. We don't mention them, because they don't seem important. It's the same for you and other non purebloods. I'll give you an example. I remember going to Snape's house once and seeing this box sitting on top of a stand. I ask him what it is and he says 'oh that's the telly', like that's supposed to mean something to me. When I asked what that was, I could see that for a moment he wondered why I didn't know what that was. I don't remember anyone else talking about the 'telly' at school. It simply wasn't that important. Do you know what the difference is? When a pureblood doesn't share something, you get all annoyed, instead of getting a bloody book about pureblood customs and reading it during those boring stakeouts, but when a Muggleborn doesn't share, then it's the pureblood's fault for not learning about it." There was so much more that he could say about this, but he wasn't sure it was wanted, because Harry became quiet for a long time.

"You're right," Harry finally said. "We should do better. All of us. I'm not sure how you can do it, though. It's not like you can force people to read. Merlin knows that I'd be terrible at it." He put his fork down and rested his arms on the table. "We need to find a way to learn from each other, because otherwise in ten, fifteen years, we'll be back where we started. I just don't know how."

"Hogwarts," Draco said softly. "I've been thinking about this, how things could have been different if I had known more about Muggleborns. I barely know things now, but Hogwarts can help. Make it mandatory for everyone, just an hour a week for all seven years. If it's not a regular class with grades, OWLs and NEWTs, it wouldn't need the approval of the Board. McGonagall could do it as supplemental education like the dancing lessons."

"Don't we have Muggle Studies though?" Harry pointed out. "Purebloods could take it."

"A lot of it is about history and customs and other things that no one pays attention to, at least that's what I think it is. Besides, it can't be mandatory. If you have an hour talking about everyday things in the Muggle world without a final grade or OWLs or NEWTs, then you can make it mandatory. There should also be an hour for pureblood customs. Have everyone take both of them. Just listening to what people do helps," Draco pointed out.

Harry bit his lip. "That's actually a very good idea. I'll talk to McGonagall. It might be too late for this year, but maybe she can start it after Christmas holidays."

"One more project for the Chosen One."

"Don't call me that," Harry said with a sigh. "Not in this house. I hear enough of that out there. I don't want to listen to it in here."

"Sorry, it was- I don't know, habit, teasing, a little bit of both." 

"Anyway, all projects will need to wait until I get some sleep," Harry said, sounding a little mollified. "I might be out for a while."

"We have an appointment at Twilfitt and Tattings for three o'clock. I've taken the liberty to send my measurements with Kreacher and he confirmed with them that they have your measurements. I've also sent ideas for what we need. We can't miss that appointment, because in case you have forgotten, the party is at the end of the month."

Harry groaned. "Do you know how much I hate that?"

"What? The clothes? The party? Because we need clothes to go to the party so you can come out. We can't hide in this house."

Harry shook his head. "No, I hate that the party is on Halloween. They want to celebrate, but it's not a celebration. My parents died!"

Draco sighed. "I think it's another one of those Muggle versus magical situations. I think it's beautiful that they are doing it on that date. It's the night when the barrier between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, when ghosts who are ready can cross over, when those with the gift can see the dead. Now the Second of May, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, that's terrible. They are celebrating winning and I know that's important, but the deaths are forgotten. That's not the case on Hallow's Eve. On that night, the dead are celebrated."

"That actually sounds nice. I went to Sir Nick's deathday once, while at Hogwarts, but he never really explained it like you just did. Something else to put into those lectures I guess, but it will have to wait for later," he said, getting up. "Wake me up at two thirty."

"I'll wake you up at two and we can have a late lunch. You'll need your strength for the fitting." The groan was expected, but Draco laughed anyway. 

***

The trip to Twilfitt and Tattings felt like a trip to the past for Draco. The tailor did the fitting, a shop clerk brought them tea and biscuits while they were there, and he was treated like the prince he was brought up to believe he was. He also had no doubt that this was because of Harry and they'd be happy to kick him out otherwise. Still, they were able to get a first look at the robes that they had created based on Draco's direction. 

They were amazing. 

Harry didn't seem to agree. He didn't seem interested in anything other than getting out of there. "What's the matter with you?" Draco asked when they finally stepped out.

"I hate people touching me," Harry muttered. "They have made enough robes for me that they should be able to make more without touching me, and what's the matter with you? I told you to get extra robes, why wouldn't you?"

"Potter, where do you think I'll be wearing fancy robes once we break up?" Draco asked, a little amused. "Besides, I still have my old dressed robes. They are a little dated, but they fit well enough with just a little magic to make them fit, and again, it's not like I'll have much use for them. The everyday robes-." Those had been used and reused for the last seven years until holes had formed. He had used magic to fix them and then cut them to use them as rags around the house until they had finally ended up in the rubbish.

"We should go to Madam Malkin's," Harry said. "It's… fitting. We started there."

"And, we'll end it there?" Draco teased.

"No, but we can be seen there. Twilfitt and Tattings has all the private rooms. No one really saw us," Harry pointed out.

"No, but that doesn't mean that they won't drop hints to their other famous customers, and while none of them would be official sources to reporters, you can bet your terrible spectacles that all the reporters will know by the night of party," Draco answered. "I don't need more clothes," he added after a moment.

"Of course you do. We'll have to be out and about together and it's not like you can wear the same two robes you seem to have."

Draco was surprised that Harry had even noticed. The man could be totally oblivious one moment and incredibly observant when you least expected him to be. "I can make do."

"Sure, but how about we get a few everyday things? You can go wild and get things that include trousers and tunics instead of full length robes. I know it's such a strange concept," Harry said with a little smile.

"You can be a prick, do you know that? But I'll make you a deal, I'll get some clothes, including some trousers, if we can buy you new spectacles. Those are falling apart. Better yet, how about I fix your eyesight? You know it can be done, right?" Draco asked.

"I don't know… I just… it doesn't seem right to mess with certain things," Harry answered.

"Think about it, though. People expect you to wear spectacles, round, thick, black spectacles. If you're not wearing them, people will get confused, maybe they won't stop you." Trickery didn't work on house-elves only, but on Gryffindors as well. And Hufflepuffs, but they were just like house-elves. He knew he was right when Harry got that pensive look of his, like he was making the biggest decision of his life or had to urgently use the loo. It was difficult to distinguish.

"Fine, you can fix my eyesight after we get you new clothes."

The new clothes ended up taking a lot longer than expected, because they stopped at the Quidditch shop first, then they visited George Weasley at his shop, then they went to Madam Malkin's where she was happy to show them her entire stock. By the time they got out, it was dark and all the stores were closing. 

"Muggle stores close later," Harry said. "There's one place we should go, get you some Muggle clothes as well, because you can't walk on Grimmauld Place without Muggle clothes and I don't want you to get you in trouble for violating the statute."

The last part was pure crap, because the statute talked about magic and not clothes, but Draco could see someone who hated him using it as an excuse. If Madam Malkin's was small, this place was _huge_. It had floors and floors of merchandise, most of which Draco had never seen. There were moving stairs, called escalators like at Hogwarts. "You're sure they don't have magic," he murmured as the lights shone bright over everything.

They ended up buying so many things that Draco's head was swirling. It'd been so long since he could spend without worrying. 

"Keep those on," Harry said at the end of their shopping trip. "I'll get the clerk to take the security measures off and I'll pay for them."

 _Those_ consisted of tailored navy trousers, a lighter blue silk shirt and a jacket. He thought that it was definitely an overkill to walk home, but when they got out of the shop, Harry called Kreacher to take their bags, changed his clothes with a wave of his wand and off they went to a restaurant. Their meal was Italian, which was familiar enough, although Harry was talking about Indian, Chinese and Thai and Draco didn't know if he was ready for that just yet.

"This is … Other than the fact that there are people kissing in public, it's very … normal, isn't it?" Draco asked with a frown. The entire experience of walking through Muggle London had left him confused. 

"Well, yes, it's why I want to come out, so it's normal in the wizarding world, but otherwise, what were you expecting?" Harry asked.

Draco snorted. "Potter, I was hardly speaking about that. There was that couple, a man and a woman that were practically sucking their tongues out of their mouths. That is never going to fly. I've never even seen my parents kiss like that at home. There has to be some modicum of decency. But otherwise? I have no idea what I was expecting. I've never dealt with Muggles unless it was the war, and the situation was rather… different."

"You mean kidnapping and torturing didn't bring out the best in Muggles?" Harry asked, trying to sound sarcastic, but Draco could only hear the bitterness there.

"No, I suppose not. Still, I've always been told they are so different, but they really aren't. Their clothes are mighty tight. Are you sure I look good in this?" He was still not convinced that it looked right, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of him, so maybe it was all right.

"It's called a slim cut. I used to wear such baggy clothes that when Muggles started to make slim cuts, that's all I bought, but I don't get to use my Muggle clothes enough. Still when I'm not busy, I wander around London, find new places to eat. It's a lot more diverse," Harry pointed out.

"And people don't stare at you. Don't think I didn't notice how you tried to stick to the shadows when we were in Diagon Alley. There's no way we won't be in the Prophet tomorrow." He looked down at his empty plate and then back at Harry. "I've had my first Muggle meal. Today was filled with a lot of 'firsts'. It was… not unpleasant," he said with a grin. "Father would be horrified. If he even remembered me."

"I'm sorry about your father. No one should have to go through that."

"Not even someone like my father?" Draco asked, because apparently he was a masochist and simply had to know.

"I meant that you shouldn't have to watch him in that state, but not even someone like Lucius deserves that. I don't think anyone should lose their mind or die. If I could have stopped Voldemort in any other way, I would have," Harry confessed. "Killing is sometimes inevitable, but it's never my preferred solution. What your father is suffering is the same as dying. A man isn't himself without his mind, and Voldemort did that to him."

Draco sighed. "I know. I remember how many times he was under the Cruciatus. His body would shake long after. Is it terrible if I say that I almost wish he were dead? Not even for me, but for my mother. She's tied to him. She'll never divorce him; she'll never move on. She deserves better. He deserves better than being at St. Mungo's without knowing what's happening in the world, and worse there are moments he's in pain and he has no idea why."

"I don't think it's terrible. I remember when I saw Neville's mother for the first time. All  
humanity seemed to have left her. I don't know if staying alive really helps anyone." Harry paused as the waiter brought them the cheque and he paid. "Come on, why don't we take a walk before going home? I've had so little free time that it's good to be out, doing things that don't involve dark magic."

Draco followed him without a word. He was surprised when Harry put an arm around him, but he had to admit that it felt good. "What was that thing you used to pay? Is that Muggle money?"

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "No, Muggle money is made of coins and papers. That's a credit card. It's like… say that Gringotts charmed an object with the amount of money you have in your vault, right? And everytime you go somewhere, you show this object and the shop owner taps on the object and whatever amount you owe Gringotts takes away from your vault and puts it in the shop owner's vault. That's what a credit card does."

Draco frowned. "But how do they do that if they don't have magic?"

"Muggles have found a lot of smart ways." He let go of Draco and took the card out. "See this strip in the back. It contains enough information that when they put the card in that machine you saw, they can read the card and pay the money."

Draco was relieved when Harry put the card away and wrapped his arm around Draco once more. This was nice in a way that he hadn't experienced in his life. There were no expectations on either one of them and Harry was talking to him like it was okay not to know about the Muggle world, without any inference that Draco was evil for not knowing. "Muggle speak makes sense when you explain it like that. What you said, that means you have a bank account in the Muggle world. Why would you do that?"

The sigh was unexpected as much as the explanation that came. "During the war, we were cut out of the magical world, but we didn't have resources in the Muggle world. When the war ended, we decided that in the future, we would be prepared. We got Muggle documents that allow us to travel - they are called passports - we got bank accounts, credit cards, driver licenses. If something happens, we can survive in the Muggle world without a problem."

"And by we, you mean you Granger and Weasley. Is this why they live in the Muggle world?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "People know that they are in the Muggle world, but not where. We're keeping it that way since the Death Eaters knew about Grimmauld Place."

"Do you know that the war is over, right?" Draco asked.

"I know, but the problems haven't. People still hate each other based on who their grandparents were. Now purebloods hate everyone because of what they lost. Muggleborn and half-blood resent purebloods because of what they went through. Seven years and we're back to where we started. I won't be caught unprepared this time." There was a pause as they walked, and Draco could tell that Harry was thinking about something. "Muggles have studied soldiers, they are like Aurors but work in international wars. When they go home, they don't know how to live a normal and peaceful life. We're a little like that. We've been doing this since we were eleven."

Draco snaked an arm around Harry and squeezed gently. "You shouldn't have had to do that. None of us should have fought a war, but you had it worse." Silence fell between them, but this time it felt wrong, probably because they were both stuck in their memories. Draco knew how bad that could be. It was why he never thought about his Johns. That way the road to madness lay. He looked around for something that he could use to change the subject and it was right in front of him. "What's that thing, over the rooftops?"

Harry smiled brightly again. "That's the London Eye. They opened it five years ago and has the highest point where you can see London. Do you want to go?"

"We could fly and be above everything," Draco teased.

"I know, but this is different. We don't get arrested if Muggle sees us," Harry said with a lopsided smile.

And that was how Draco found himself on a Muggle observation wheel, scared out of his mind that it would stop working and they'd die. The way Harry held him, like he _cared_ , like everything would be alright made it worth it, although Draco was still happy when they got off. "I had fun tonight despite risking my life on that flying machine."

"So did I," Harry answered with a chuckle. "Best date in a long time."

Draco frowned at the comment. "We're supposed to be dating where people can see us."

Harry shrugged. "And we will, but today was for us. The Prophet will just have to make things up. It's not like it makes a difference to them. I care that we enjoyed the night."

The words were like a wave of heat moving through Draco, leaving him feeling a lot more optimistic about what they were doing and life in general. Even the eventual howlers would be tolerable if they followed nights like this. By the time, they got home and Draco got in his bed, he thought that just maybe he hadn't made a mistake by accepting this offer.

***

Hallow's Eve arrived and optimism flew out the window. Draco had been very wrong about going along with Harry's stupid idea. It wasn't the clothes. In fact, they looked absolutely divine in their robes. Harry's robes were a teal colour that was all the rage lately. He had vetoed any and all patterns, but the design was intricate enough with different layers to make it one of a kind. Draco has picked a purple colour with silver stars. Purple was the colour of the dead, after all, and he thought that it was the perfect way to celebrate them. No, playing the part wasn't a problem. Everything else seemed to be.

It started with Harry casually mentioning that Draco needed to surrender his wand at the party. That wouldn't have been a problem if Draco had a wand. He'd been using his mother's old wand, but it never worked properly and he'd given it back to her. So now he was faced with having to admit that he couldn't even afford a bloody wand. "I can't give them mine," he said lightly, trying to gauge where the discussion was going before saying more.

"Of course you have to give them yours; everyone has to. Only law enforcement and the highest members of the government get to keep theirs," Harry said casually as he ran his fingers through his hair, as if that helped. It didn't.

Draco got closer and fixed the bangs, murmuring a little spell so that they would stay right in front of the scar. Not that it would do much to disguise Harry, but he knew how much Harry disliked people staring it at the scar. "You look good without glasses."

"I still can't believe I let you fix my eyesight. People keep staring at me," Harry said.

"People have always stared at you," Draco said with a chuckle.

"True, although I have to admit that people are suddenly confused if I'm me. The glasses were _not_ such a great disguise. This is Clark Kent all over again," he said with a shake of the head. 

"I have no idea who this Clark Kent is," Draco answered.

"It's a Muggle comic book hero, and don't change the subject. Why can't you give them your wand?"

Draco sighed, knowing that he couldn't get out of this. "Have you seen me use a wand? I had my mother's, but wasn't working. After the verdict, I didn't have the money for a new one so I learned to cast magic without, since every month there seemed to be more important things I needed, and besides, I'm not sure that Ollivander really wants to see me- And where are you going?" he asked as Harry ran up the stairs, leaving him confused for a few minutes. "I don't appreciate you walking out on me while I'm speaking."

"Right, yes, here's your wand. I put it away and I sort of forgot about it until now. I'm sorry, I should have thought of it, given it to you. Please, take it," Harry said as he returned back downstairs.

With some hesitance, Draco closed his fingers around the wand, _his_ wand. It had been seven long years without one. At first his magic had been wonky, but Draco had always been persistent and worked hard to master the easy spells at first, working his way toward more complicated ones, until he forgot about the wand. "It feels strange, almost foreign."

"Try casting a spell," Harry suggested.

Draco tried a simple summoning spell, but instead of his cloak, everything around them started to shoot out in their directions. The new umbrella stand almost hit Harry in the face, but luckily he Disapparated fast enough. "Sorry, it's-" Draco said, feeling shaken by the experience.

"Don't worry about it. You probably need a new one," Harry said with one of his reassuring smiles.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I'm just so used to not needing a wand to channel my magic. Having a wand makes the magic almost too powerful, if that makes sense." It made sense in his head at least.

"It does. Doesn't one of the big schools not use wands so their students can be better wizards? It's probably like that," Harry said with a shrug. "Still, take the wand. You can surrender it. It's easier to give one that you don't use than to explain that you don't have one."

Draco nodded, because he knew that Harry was right. If there was one thing that never changed, regardless of who was in charge, it was bureaucracy. 

After such a start, one might think that their problems were done, but one would have been wrong. If the wand had proven disconcerting, where they were going ended up being even more shocking.

Harry had provided a portkey, because they'd get dirty by floo and neither wanted to Apparate if they ended up drinking a little too much. It was for that reason that Draco didn't know where they were going until he landed right outside the gates of his house. "We're- What the fuck is this, Potter?" He could feel his breath quicken until he was almost gasping for air. 

Harry pulled him to the side and let other people go through. "What's happening?"

Draco rested his hands on his knees as he leaned forward and tried to breathe. "Why are we here?"

"Because of the party. This is where the Ministry has been doing all social events. After the Aurors finished going through it, they tried to sell it, but every time anyone came to see it, the Manor would shut down and no one could go in and out. Apparently the same happens to the Floo, even though everything works from the Ministry's side. It doesn't seem to be a problem with parties," Harry explained. "Didn't you know? I’m sure it has been in the papers."

Draco shook his head. "It's not been, I assure you. I would remember reading that the Ministry has been having parties in _my_ house. They must have kept it a secret for security reasons." He took a deep breath and straightened up. "It's not the house, but the house-elves. If it were just Father, maybe they would have allowed it, but the house doesn't belong to Father. It belongs to the Malfoys, so they won't let anyone buy it as long as there are Malfoys alive." He hinted at a smile. "He could be a bastard with them, but you have to remember that house-elves live more than two hundred and fifty years. In the grand scheme of things, living with him as the head of the household for a decade is nothing. My grandfather didn't die until 1989, and he was in charge until then."

"You all lived here?" Harry asked.

"Potter, there are over fifty bedrooms at the manor. There were four of us after my grandmother passed away. Yes, we all lived here," Draco said, shaking his head. "One day, I'll explain how things work, but for now, we have a party to attend."

Harry put an arm around Draco. "Are you sure? We can go home if you'd rather. I don't want you to be hurt."

Draco shook his head. "It was unexpected, that's all and we have an agreement. Besides, I'm not letting these robes go to waste. Let's go in."

Going inside was a painful reminder of what he had lost, but soon he remembered all the good things that had happened here as well. Little things brought back memories of much happier days. Despite telling Harry that, Harry refused to leave his side for more than a few moments at a time. They danced, they drank, they spoke to a few people, but throughout they stayed together. When Draco saw Harry's friends, he walked toward them with Harry in tow.

"Can you two tell him that he has to leave me alone or people will think that there's something wrong?" Draco said in greeting.

Ron snorted. "Too late, people already think that there's something wrong. The lack of spectacles seems to be throwing them off more than the two of you together."

"Because people are shallow," Hermione said with a sigh. "But Malfoy isn't wrong. If you two don't separate at some point, Kingsley will suspect that the Imperius is involved."

Harry rolled his eyes. "He knows that I can throw off the Imperius, but all right, we'll separate. I know that a few reporters have tried to catch Draco's attention. They know better than to ask me about my personal life."

There was a sudden pop and a tray covered in warm chocolate biscuits appeared. "For Master Draco." Draco wasn't surprised that the house-elf remained invisible. Their house-elves knew better than to be seen in public. Still, he recognised the voice. "My favourites, did you just make them, Pilly?"

"Pilly saw Master Draco and asked Bolby to bake them. He was happy to make some. We have been waiting for you to come to a party," the house-elf said.

"Thank you, and thank Bolby for me as well. Unfortunately, I can't really come here, but I'll try to attend more parties if it's within my power," he said, feeling stupidly sentimental over house-elves. He fought the sting in his eyes, because he would not cry over biscuits, but it was nice to be wanted. It was even nicer when he felt Harry's hand pressed against his back. He looked at Harry in silent thanks and then toward the voice of the house-elf. "I'll let Mother know how well you've been taking care of the house. She'd be proud."

"Pilly is happy to hear that. Pilly must go now. The tray will stay until you are done." 

There was a pop and there were four of them again. 

Ron picked up a biscuit and moaned. "God, these are better than all the fancy shit-"

"Food," Hermione corrected Ron.

"Yes, better than all those little things that are supposed to fill you up," Ron said. "The house-elves really love you."

"Which is why the Ministry is never selling this house," Harry said, shaking his head. "Anyone who wants to fight a house-elf is an idiot. Dobby was devious when he wanted me to help him. He didn't like your father much," he told Draco.

"No, I suppose not. He was Father's personal house-elf, even before Grandfather's death. They never got along," Draco said. "I was sorry to hear that he'd died. He was nice to me."

"He saved us," Harry said, sadly.

"Right, Harry said that you've been renovating," Hermione said, swiftly changing the subject, before they all got trapped in their painful past. "Have you done much? And what is this strange paint colour? I've asked and Harry can't seem to come up with a name."

Draco shook his head. "No, mostly the hallway and staircases from ground floor to the top one. It's now free of screaming portraits, although we have put back the other portraits, and free of house-elves' heads. And the colour is mother-of-pearl."

"Nonsense, that's not a colour, that's a substance," Hermione answered.

Ron and Draco both stared at her. Draco was the first to speak up. "Right, it is, but you can make a colour too with magic. It's basically white paint that it's then charmed to have those different shades as you paint. So it looks like mother-of-pearl on a wall." He frowned. "How do you not know this?"

"Because it makes no sense," Hermione said, before smacking Ron's hand as he reached for his third biscuit. "How can something be of different shades?"

"Magic?" Ron said, with a shrug. 

"How would you even know?" Hermione asked.

"Aunt Muriel has a room like that," Ron said. "How does Malfoy know?"

"Yes, how do you know? And how did you paint so quickly?" Harry asked.

Draco looked between the three and then sighed. "I will hex you if you say anything, but I wanted to be a painter when I was seven. It lasted about a month. Mother bought me all the paint and brushes you could possibly imagine. Then she taught me spells to enchant the brushes, so they'd dip, paint and even wash themselves. I made a mess," he said, smiling at the memory. "I threw a fit because my paintings were never quite as good as my mother's. Of course, I was seven and I couldn't cast the spells properly, but I still learned them. Mother always says that you don't know when something will come handy. She is always right."

"That's actually cool. Your mum is pretty cool. Mind you, your dad is a psycho- Ouch, why did you elbow me?" Ron asked Hermione. "You know we're all thinking it. He tried to kill Ginny when she was twelve. Who does that? Or are we going to pretend that he's the nicest bloke?"

"You could have some tact," Hermione said.

"No, he's right," Draco said with a sigh. "There's no point in lying, not with the four of us. We all know what happened, better than most. No sense in pretending. Besides, I don't think it matters anymore. He'll never do what he used to."

"I'm sorry to hear about his condition," Hermione told Draco. "It can't be easy."

"No, but then life is rarely easy, and speaking of hard tasks. It's time to meet the press. Potter, you promised me a dance later. Granger, Weasley, I'll see you later." With that, he left the three friends alone and braved the crowd.

***

Harry got up late the next morning. It was nice to have two whole days free. Sure, there was the ball, but that wasn't technically work, even if most of the Ministry had been present. He had to admit that for the first time in a long time, he had enjoyed himself. There were no people trying to get a date with him, no one pushing and prodding to dance with him. Instead he had spent a wonderful evening with Draco and when they weren't together, Harry stuck with Hermione and Ron, or some other member of the D.A. Unfortunately, Kingsley had caught him at a point, but luckily it didn't last long once he was satisfied that there was no Dark magic involved.

Feeling optimistic from the night before, he made his descent down to the kitchen. He could Apparate inside the house like Fred and George had done back during the war, but he enjoyed walking. It was even nicer now that the staircase wasn't covered with snakes. It really did look nice and part of him was curious to see what Draco would do with the rest of the house.

"Morning," he said as he entered the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the table with multiple newspapers spread all over. Harry went straight for the tea, but saw that there was a plate ready for him. He brought everything to the table. Instead of sitting across from Draco, he sat next to him, mug in his hands. "So how bad? I should know before I start eating."

"Nothing we didn't expect," Draco started. "There's some good news. There are only eight articles about us."

Harry laughed. "Only eight. About us going to a party. I've seen major laws get less coverage than us. People really need new hobbies. All right, so what is the bad news?"

"The articles go from you taking advantage of my situation to me using the Imperius on you, with the rest falling somewhere in the middle. There is one talking about our auras proving that we're soulmates," Draco said.

Harry chuckled. "Let me take a wild guess. The soulmate one is Lavender. She cornered me last night and said that it was about time, since she had seen it in her tea leaves in Divination. Of course, she had also seen that we would die a terrible and bloody death, but in her defense, everyone learned to see bloody deaths if they wanted a passing grade from Trelawney."

"Very good, Auror Potter. I see all that work has honed your detective skill," Draco said. "Right, so tell me who wrote the two I mentioned."

Harry snorted. "Elementary, Watson… and that's just an expression from a Muggle book to mean that's just way too easy. I'm a terrible human being and taking advantage of you comes from the one and only Rita Skeeter. I saw her talking to you yesterday."

"I didn't tell her anything bad, I swear," Draco answered.

"I know. I wasn't suggesting that you had." Harry knew better. If there was one thing that hadn't changed with time, it was Skeeter's dislike for him. "She hates me and she likes your family. The Imperius one must be Inkwell."

"Why would you want to be a journalist with that last name? I'd do anything but," Draco said, interrupting Harry's thought process. "Do carry on with the explanation."

"Right, because he hates that your family's sentence was commuted. In fact, he hates everything about the war, so he'd never approve of this." He wasn't the only one. The howlers and owls had started after their first time out to get their robes, but the magic around the house stopped the howlers from coming in and he burned the owls before Draco could read them. "So am I right?"

Draco nodded. "How do you know if you don't read the Prophet? Half of these articles are in the prophet."

"Just because I don't read it, it doesn't mean that people don't tell me things. Inkwell has expressed his displeasure about my testimony at your trials several times. He even suggested that I was under the Imperius at that time. He will not be repeating that accusation," Harry assured Draco. "Skeeter's pieces usually get cut out and posted around the office, because everyone thinks they are funny. I probably know the other reporters as well. I just don't read what they write unless someone points it out to me."

"So do you want me to tell you what's in the articles?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, you've already summarized and I can't imagine that there's anything important that I need to know. Unless you think there's something that I need to know."

Draco thought for a moment. "Not really, although there was an implication that I've done it to get the manor back. I mean it's ridiculous since you don't own it, but I don't know if it'll have an impact on your work."

"Not really, no. The house is property of the Ministry and I couldn't give it back even if I wanted to. Kingsley knows it, the people in the Wizengamot know it. They'll still be pissed that it can't be sold, but nothing they can do. The house refused to be sold long before you entered the picture." He sighed. "It is a shame that it stays empty. It'll end up like this house eventually. They should be able to do _something_."

Draco tensed. "You're not being subtle, Potter. If you want something, just tell me what you want."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm not being subtle, because I don't want you to do anything. I think it'd be nice if the house could be used for something other than boring parties, don't you think? Wouldn't you want it to see used for something good instead of staying empty or being sold? I don't know what it could be used for, but if you have an idea, then I would bring it up with Kingsley, because it's your house, but that's the extent of it."

Draco nodded. "Sorry, it's a little too soon. I hadn't expected to go there. They made biscuits for me."

Harry had seen how much that simply act had meant to Draco the night before. He reached over and pressed his hand against Draco's cheek. "They care about you and that's telling. I've learned that if you aren't nice to the house-elves, they won't be nice to you, even if you are their master." He let go and smiled. "You know, you should invite your mother here when she's free. We can take her out, what do you think?"

Draco smiled. "She knows what's going on with us. I wouldn't let her read about us in the papers without preparing her."

"Perfect, then we can take her out and it won't be weird," Harry said with a grin. 

"You're mad, Potter, but all right, I'll let her know. Now eat your breakfast, because afterwards, we need to decide what to do with this house. We'll start with the drawing room."

"Let me double check that all the windows are closed. I'm not in the mood for the howlers that will arrive." And arrive they did, in large numbers, but they were able to ignore them.

***

It took a little over three weeks before they could find a day that Narcissa and Harry were off at the same time. Those three weeks went by faster than Draco had thought possible, because they kept doing things together when Harry was free. They didn't go out just to be seen, but to do things that they enjoyed. 

There were a few dinners at fancy restaurants that Draco adored, but couldn't possibly afford any longer. Those usually ended up with stories of Imperius and brainwashing the next day.

They went to watch United play against the Wasps. Photographers managed to take several pictures and depending on the picture, they were the couple of the century (they were laughing, because Ron had claimed that the Cannons were better) or they were having an angry fight (they were wincing when a badger connected to the arm of the United chaser so violently that the entire stadium heard the bone crack). 

These events were few and far in between, because Harry was still busy and when he wasn't, they also visited the Muggle world. Harry had said that it was only fair that Draco learned about the Muggle world now that Harry was making an effort to learn about purebloods. He was even reading a book! 

Draco discovered what films were, and he could possibly admit that they were better than the wireless. On the other hand, he was utterly dismayed at mobiles and their utility. Why waste so much time and money on those gadgets when you could simply Apparate places? Thankfully, Harry didn't argue with him and even agreed that you couldn't use them in the wizarding world, although it has something to do with electricity and satellites, not that Draco truly understood what that meant.

The best day turned out to be one Saturday when Draco had planned to paint the drawing room. They had gone for a very faint green, which made the tapestry stand out. All the furniture had been covered, the tapestry had been removed and then Harry decided to help. It was the start of a disaster. Paint went everywhere, including on them, it took double the time that it would have taken Draco to do it by himself. Except that it was always wonderful, because they had laughed about nonsense, talked about everything under the sun and felt at ease with each other. At a certain point, when Harry got paint in his bangs, Draco had moved closer to clean it up. It had been a simple spell, it shouldn't have been anything special, but Draco had been so close and those eyes were so green without the spectacles that he hadn't been able to help himself, he closed the gap until they were kissing. It had been Harry to pull back first, still smiling and suggesting that they should finish painting.

After that, things changed. It was a subtle shift, with them being a little closer, touching a little more, but at the same time never crossing any lines. They were at this new stage of their friendship when Narcissa arrived at Grimmauld Place. Draco was ecstatic. It'd been years since they could afford to do something nice. Not that he knew where they were going, because Harry had planned everything and refused to tell him where they were going, because it was going to be a surprise.

"Mother, tell him how terrible he's being," Draco said after they greeted each other.

"I think you can wait just a little longer. Mr. Potter said that the portkey is ready to take us to our destination," she said in that tone of voice that was reserved for Draco. Even the children she cared for didn't hear such a sweet tone. 

"Please, call me 'Harry', and we just have to touch it." He took out the pencil that they had enchanted at the Ministry for him and waited for the other two to get hold of it. "Here we go."  
They landed right outside the manor once more and Harry seemed to be second-guessing himself, something that Draco had never seen before. "I hope this isn't presumptuous of me."

"May we go in?" Narcissa asked with a little awe in her voice.

"Yes, of course. The gates still work as they did before, no ill intent and all. Apparently trying to buy the house is considered ill intent, so any prospective buyer and every estate agent in the country has been barred from coming in," he said as the gates swung open and they were allowed to come in. "Draco and I think that it's the house-elves and not the gates."

"They made me chocolate biscuits," Draco said with a grin.

"Have you been here before? And you didn't say?" Narcissa asked.

"At the Hallow's Eve Ball," he said, "and I was waiting to tell you in person."

"The ball? And they served chocolate biscuits." Narcissa sounded horrified at the thought.

"Breathe, Mother. Our house-elves know better. They were perfect as usual, with a perfectly acceptable menu, but when they saw that I was present, they made _me_ biscuits. Bolby is as good a cook as ever, but it sounds like Pilby has taken over running the house," Draco explained.

"That's good. She always had a good head, focused, but with manners." Narcissa smiled at Draco. "And of course, they made you chocolate biscuits. They are your favourites." Harry snorted and Narcissa looked at him. "Is there a problem?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all. I just remember the amount of chocolate biscuits you used to send him in school. Everyone knew that they were his favourites."

" _Everyone_ wasn't obsessed with me," Draco pointed out.

When they reached the manor, the double doors opened to let them in and Pilby appeared. "Master Draco, Mistress Narcissa, welcome home. Mister Potter told Pilby of your arrival. We've been preparing for your visit. Lunch will be in the conservatory." She became invisible as quick as she had appeared, the doors closed and then a pop marked her Disapparition.

"They said the conservatory is one of your favourite rooms," Harry said, "but we can go anywhere you like. There are a few rooms that have been sealed just in case, like Voldemort's bedroom, but I've kept coming back and I can't feel any trace of him."

"The conservatory will be perfect," Narcissa said, cutting off any discussion about Voldemort.

The house-elves had gone over and above, that much was clear. The fancy dishes and good silverware was out and the food was so much better than anything else they had provided at Ministry functions. 

"This was delicious," Harry said as they finished lunch. "Maybe they can teach Kreacher, or maybe not. If I ate like this everyday, I wouldn't be able to move."

Pilby appeared once more. "If Master is done, Pilby has prepared some things in his room that he might like to take with him."

Draco looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow. Harry shrugged in answer. "All right, I'll be back soon." Harry watched him go with a smile on his face.

"What exactly are you doing?" Narcissa said as soon as they were alone. "My son and I do not speak of certain things, but I know what he does to survive. He also mentioned that he's doing you a favour. I assume this favour is being remunerated."

Harry nodded. "But it's not what you think. He is doing me a favour and I am paying him, because it's only fair since he can't… work, but that's it. There's nothing else going on between us."

"But you'd like to be. Don't bother denying it. I see that look in your face, it was the same look I used to see on Lucius' face when he looked at me," she said with a smile.

"I wasn't going to deny it. I like Draco and now that there's no war, no Houses to divide us, we enjoy spending time together, but nothing can happen until this ends. I don't want him to think that he owes me, or that it's part of the deal. We can be friends and if he wants to give it a try afterwards-"

"How do you think that will happen when you plan to break up publicly?" Narcissa asked.

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea. I hadn't planned for us to enjoy spending time together this much. It was a simple agreement at the start, but honestly, even if I'd known that things would get complicated, I still would have asked him. It makes sense, it helps me, it helps him. I didn't like the idea of him living in that flat, doing what he was doing, putting himself in danger. I would have done something before if I had known, but I didn't. Anyway, I'm not known for thinking things through. I do what's right and then I figure out how to get out of the messes I get myself into. Hermione is the one who usually figures it out and Ron helps me pull it off. Besides, I don't even know if Draco is interested, so there might not be a mess to deal with."

Narcissa laughed lightly. "Oh Harry, my son's life has revolved around you since you were eleven. I can't imagine him not being interested, but I'm glad that you want to make this… a little more equal, although we already owe you. This isn't the life we were born into, but it's certainly better than being in Azkaban."

He shook his head. "You don't owe me anything. I would have been dead if it weren't for you. We all did our part. At least I thought I did. I wouldn't have let things get so bad if I'd known-"

"What cause has you playing the martyr now?" Draco asked as he returned. "Are we back to equality for homosexuals?"

Harry chuckled. "No, I was telling your mother about the animosities that still exist in our society, and I forgot to tell you that I spoke to McGonagall. Draco suggested that Hogwarts had lessons in pureblood traditions as well as Muggle customs mandatory for everyone," he told Narcissa. "McGonagall agrees with him and she'll start after the Christmas holidays, although she's not sure that it will truly help. She thinks that learning what people wear or how they celebrate certain holidays doesn't really make people grow closer."

"Only exposure to each other does. This is why the Slytherins are so close. The families have known each other for generations, the children play together, get sorted into Slytherin together, go into business together," Narcissa said.

"Funny you say that, because everyone seems to agree on that point, but it's hard when the children meet each other at eleven. Imagine if Draco and I had grown up together. Things could have gone very differently," Harry said.

Draco sat down and reached for another piece of chocolate cake. "Potter, you have that face, the one that says 'I'm planning something, but I'll blurt it out in a second, because I have no patience'."

"Not so much planning, but thinking-"

"That's never a good sign," Draco answered with a grin.

"How do children meet? In school, right? So why not a magical primary school? Maybe even with a nursery? Start at age two or three? It won't solve the problem with Muggleborns just yet, but the Ministry could get around that. Once they show their first sign of magic, the families get notified, instead of waiting until the child is eleven. Of course, to have a primary school, you need a building big enough for all the classrooms, secure, with floo connection for those whose parents can't Apparate. It's expensive to get a property like that, unless you happen to have a huge manor that simply can't be sold," Harry said.

"Let me get this straight. You brought me and my mother here so we would convince the house-elves to let you take over the house. Did I get it right?" Draco said.

Narcissa put a hand on Draco's. "Let Harry explain."

"Well, yes and no," Harry continued. "The school would need a headmistress, a person the house-elves would let in, and even though the children wouldn't dorm, she'd probably need board and room at the house, because they could have extended hours with children being dropped here at eight and picked up at six. This way mothers wouldn't have to stop working until the children are eleven. And think about it, if the children have no magic, you could even have hire squibs, providing good jobs and obtaining the support of the Society for the Support of Squibs."

"Oh Potter, there's no way that you came up with all of this on your own; Granger told you," Draco said with a smile.

"Actually, no. She did mention the manor as a possible location, but I am capable of thinking. I'm basically running the Auror division. I've learned a thing or two about politics." He looked at Narcissa. "Of course, it all depends if you want to do it."

Narcissa smiled. "A house full of children. Harry, there's no question that I want to. We could make magical rooms where they can learn. What do you remember of history? Probably nothing, but Draco does, because imagine having battles and important events in history come alive in front of you using toys. And the gardens can be used for games. How soon do you think we can do it? I'd have to give notice and plan all the rooms. Can we do it for January?"

"I doubt it. Nothing works that quickly at the Ministry and it is the twenty-third of November, then everything slows down even more around Christmas, but I'd imagine that you can start working on the house during the summer," he said. "I guess this means that I can talk to Kingsley about it."

"Yes, you may, and then we'll start looking for teachers," Narcissa said.

"They can't be all purebloods," Harry admonished.

"No, of course not. We'll use everything from squibs to purebloods. I do have a few ideas. Theo Nott, the poor boy, has been having a hard time. They did take everything from him, although he was able to get a job in a shop."

"And Millicent. You know she'd love dealing with anything involving physical exercise," Draco said, before tilting his head. "Potter, what is it?"

"I don't know, I thought you'd suggest Parkinson. You two were attached to the hip," Harry admitted.

"As if she would ever work," Narcissa said. "The girl knows how to land on her feet. With her father in Azkaban, she's been running everything. Her mother has no head for business. She ended up married to one of the Higgs, can't remember which one. He didn't have much money, but he does have a solid name. Now they live at the estate."

"That's… well, I'm glad she wouldn't teach. She was nasty," Harry said, before turning to Draco. "And did you get everything you wanted from your room?"

Draco nodded. "More clothes, my cauldrons, potion ingredients. The house-elves also have a trunk ready for mother, and-" He reached into his pocket and handed it to his mother. "It's the locket you love so much. Apparently it fell somewhere and the Ministry never found it."

Narcissa covered her mouth as she gasped. "Draco… your father gave me this when you were born." She looked at Harry. "Is it- will you get in trouble?"

Harry shrugged. "Your fines are paid. The Ministry took and sold all valuables. Whatever is left here is your personal property. I mean not the furniture, books in the library, dishes, whatever, those are part of the house, but clothes and things like that, they are yours. I'm sure the Ministry will get around to notifying you about picking up what's left, but since I'm an Auror and they are yours, I don't see a problem if you take them now."

"Thank you, you don't know how much this means to me," Narcissa said as she opened the lockets and touched the two pictures, one of Draco as a baby and one of Lucius.

"I believe you have to thank the house-elves for that. They are sneaky little things," Harry said, grinning. "You know, before we go, we can take another walk around the house and if there's something you want that you can take, then do so."

Narcissa smiled. "That's a brilliant idea. We'll go as soon as Draco is done with that cake."

***

Draco was worried. Things were going too well. They went out, they stayed in, they talked. They rarely argued anymore and what kind of world was it when they didn't argue? Bantering was the cornerstone of their relationship, but seven years after the war, with Harry still busy fighting Dark wizards and Draco fighting to survive, neither of them wanted to fight at home. To make things worse, he truly enjoyed spending time with Harry, and now they were spending Christmas together. He knew this would end terribly, but he put a smile on his face as his mother met them before they went to the manor.

"Is this even allowed? We don't want you getting in trouble," Narcissa said.

"Not… technically, but who's going to report me? I don't think either of you will, although I have a small surprise." He looked at his watch. "Right, should be right now."

Just a few yards away, two people landed, clearly traveling by portkey. It was an older woman and a child. He didn't _know_ who they were, but he could guess. A look at his mother confirmed it; he could see the tension in her, even though she tried not to show it.

"Harry, you didn't say where we were going," the woman said.

"I know, but you keep mentioning that you want to write to your sister and Narcissa mentioned that she would get in touch with you, and I got tired of waiting, and hello you!" Harry crouched and opened his arms. The boy ran and hugged him back. "Teddy, meet Draco and … Aunt Narcissa. Draco, meet your Aunt Andromeda. There, we're done."

"This is _not_ how you do things, Harry," Andromeda said.

Draco snorted. "This is exactly how he does things. He could wait, but why." He waived at Teddy, before extending a hand toward his aunt. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Aunt Andromeda, and Happy Christmas."

Andromeda looked at Narcissa for a moment, but then stepped forward. "This isn't how we greet family. Happy Christmas," she said as she hugged Draco for the briefest moment, and then went to her sister. There was a pause, as if both of them were deciding if they should hug or not, and then it happened.

Harry stood up, holding Teddy's hand and winking at Draco. "See? My way works. Now, let's get inside."

The walk to the house was slow with Teddy's tiny legs and Narcissa and Andromeda keeping a few steps behind, speaking too softly for Draco to hear. Inside, the house had been completely decorated, and Draco smiled as soon as he walked. "Oh, you're in for a treat," he said, almost running toward the conservatory. Almost. He had better manners than that. 

"Ready?" He held the door handles and then opened them, showing a winter wonderland. The conservatory had a big pine tree in a corner, with decorations and lights that moved all around, Christmas carols played softly through the room and mistletoe floated in the air, but none of that wasn't the most spectacular part. The entire room was covered in snow. "Look, Teddy, it's snow."

"Will it not be too cold?" Andromeda asked with a frown.

"No, it's magical snow. Lucius and I figured out the spell when Draco wanted to see real snow. It's cool, but not really as cold as real snow and it doesn't melt either, which is why the room is still warm. You get all of the benefits, but none of the downsides," Narcissa explained, before going near Draco and putting an arm around his waist. "You used to love it."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I still do. Your spells were the best."

"When did you get so tall, my darling?"

"Fifth year," Harry answered.

Draco laughed. "Potter, you really need to stop blurting out everything that passes through your mind, but he is right, fifth year, not that it matters how tall or how old I get because you will always be the best mother in the world."

"And don't you forget it. Now, let's sit down for Christmas dinner." 

If their previous lunch had been wonderful, this was top notch. The house-elves had pulled all the stops, creating a feast worthy of better times. The conversation was not as smooth as the last time, with plenty of pauses and a few awkward moments, but both Narcissa and Andromeda tried to downplay the thirty-five years that they had spoken to each other. They also carefully avoided talking about Teddy's parents or Lucius. Teddy had gotten bored while they were talking and was playing with the snow.

A sudden thud ended all conversation and Andromeda turned to Teddy who had thrown a particularly large snowball at the window. "Edward Remus Lupin, stop that right now and sit down."

Teddy looked at her on the verge of tears. Harry seemed unsure if he should intervene, which was rather hilarious for Draco, because Harry was never unsure. Draco certainly did not want to interfere, but then Narcissa started to laugh.

"What is wrong with you?" Andromeda asked.

"Oh… you sound just like Mother. You swore that you'd never be like her and you sound just like her," Narcissa answered, still chuckling. "If it makes you feel better, I had those moments, when my voice pitches higher and I could hear her in my own voice."

"And you were probably proud of that," Andromeda said.

Narcissa shook her head. "That was a sign that I needed a break, because I never wanted to be like Mother. I didn't want Draco to fear me, but mostly I wanted him to know that there was no one in the universe who could love him more than me."

Draco reached over and squeezed her hand. "I've always known, Mother. Besides, how many people would look at the Dark- at Voldemort and lie. We must use his name or Potter will have a fainting spell."

"I'll have nothing of the sort, but it's stupid to keep calling him the Dark Lord. He's bloody dead. He's lord of absolutely nothing," Harry said, "and we shouldn't talk about him at Christmas."

"Can we open the presents?" Teddy said with a very innocent expression, as if only a moment before Andromeda hadn't been yelling at him.

Narcissa stood up and went by the tree. She waved her wand and a green carpet covered the snow all around the tree. "No throwing snow or we'll have to stop," she said as she sat down on the rug. Draco didn't wait any time to join her, sitting cross legged next to her. He leaned over for a moment and Narcissa put her arm around him.

"You're worse than a child," Harry said. He waited for Andromeda and they joined the others on the rug. "All right, let's open Teddy's presents first. There's one from me, one from Draco and one from Aunt Narcissa."

"You didn't have to," Narcissa said.

"Least I could do after springing this on everyone. Come on, Teddy, let's open these presents."

Draco couldn't understand why Harry was so insistent that they started with him, but it became pretty obvious that they wouldn't have gotten anywhere if they had started with anyone else. In fact, getting through the three presents seemed to take an absurdly long time, until his mother reminded him that when he was young, they had spent a good three hours on his presents, because after opening them, they had to play with each one. Luckily it didn't take as long with Teddy, because Draco wasn't as patient as his parents.

When Teddy was finally happy and playing with the toy broom (apparently he kept getting better models every year), they dealt with the grown up presents. Andromeda gave Harry an umbrella (he got one every year, because he lost it quickly enough), some clothes and a basket of handmade jams that were to die for, or so Harry claimed, while Harry gave her among other things annual passes to something called Chessington World of Adventure for her and Teddy. Draco had no idea why they found that amusing, but he'd ask later. 

"Here, you can open mine," Narcissa said, giving them two identical boxes. The fact that the contents were identical left Draco speechless, not because of their value, but because of what it was. 

"Cissy-" Andromeda looked at Harry for a moment, hesitating. "You shouldn't have. They aren't that serious, right? They aren’t getting married."

Harry frowned. "I don't know what that has to do with the present, but Narcissa knows about our arrangement and so does Andromeda, so no one has to lie." He touched the little crystal ball that he'd found in the box. It was some blue colour that seemed to change under his fingertips. "Draco has one like it. What is it?"

"Something she shouldn't have given you," Andromeda said. "You know it won't work."

Narcissa smiled. "Why not?"

"Because it's called a Parent's Dream for a reason." She looked at Harry as she started to explain. "It's a very old spell that creates the ball you see. It was created by a mother to make her child's dream free of any pain, a way to dispel the nightmares. They take time to make, since the spell must be cast slowly to form the ball from a parent's deepest hope for their child."

"It's not just parents," Narcissa pointed out.

"Semantics and you know it. Grandparents are able to create it as well. There have been a few successful attempts by parents-in-law. Even when a parent makes it, it loses its potency with time," Andromeda said.

"It's why I made Draco a new one," Narcissa put in. "His goes back to before the war."

"You know this magic is tied to blood relationship. Even if you consider the very few cases where it worked with the in-laws, they aren't even getting married. It's- it's cruel. You aren't his mother," Andromeda said.

"I'm not trying to be, but I don't have to be his mother to know what she would have wanted for Harry. It's what every mother wants: love, peace, happiness, a healthy and long life. It might not happen, but we all want that for our children, don't we? It will work, I know it will, because I put the hopes that I have for Draco in Harry's Parent's Dream. He might not have a mother to do it for him, and maybe with time he will find in-laws that will do it and then he can put this one away, but until then, this will work," Narcissa said with conviction.

"That's beautiful," Harry said, a little breathless. "Even if it doesn't work, the thought alone… thank you." 

"Right, open my present now, although I'm not sure I can top Mother's," Draco said, sulking a little.

Harry laughed. "I'm sure it'll be great." He started unwrapping the present that revealed a small portrait of a woman he'd seen once, years and years ago in the Mirror of Erised. "This is-"

"Your grandmother. I know it's not very big, but finding it has been… interesting. Everyone knows about the Potters. It took some digging to find out that she was Euphemia Fawley before marriage. There's a freezing spell. You can remove it later and talk to her in private," Draco said. "I hope you like it."

Harry put it down and hugged Draco tight. "Thank you. Both of you. Both presents mean so much to me. I know you only did it because nothing I can give you will be enough now. Show off, the both of you. Come, Draco, give your mother her present."

Draco gave her the box. Once upon a time, their presents were expensive and without any real purpose. The past few years, Draco had barely been able to get her something decent. This year, it was expensive, but also necessary. Narcissa opened the box and revealed a gorgeous emerald cloak with white fur tracing the hemlines. "Do you like it?"

"It's gorgeous, my love. Thank you both," Narcissa said, smiling.

"There's something else." Harry gave a smaller box to Narcissa and one to Draco. 

Draco opened his and took out a parchment with a frown. "What is this?"

"You know how to read, yes?" Harry asked, with an amused tone in his voice.

Draco unrolled the parchment and read it. "A trip to Europe for the two of us?"

"That's right. I haven't taken a vacation in ages and Kingsley said that if you can manage to get me out of the office for ten days you can't be that bad. I've never left Britain, so it'll be nice to spend a few days in each major city, yes?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, but I don't think my mother can take those ten days."

Narcissa laughed lightly. "I don't think we got the same parchment. This is-" She looked at Harry. "This is happening, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "That's the text of the law passed on the 23rd of December, authorizing the creation of a magical primary school. It will be open to all magical children and Muggleborn families will be notified as soon as the child shows signs of magic. The school is contingent on getting access to the manor or another suitable place. It was past late at night, so it hasn't gone public. Kingsley will be talking to you after the holidays. Everyone is aware that there's no access without a Malfoy and Draco is too young. The contract would give you a generous salary, but you can live at the manor and so can your family. There will be rules of non-discrimination in hiring, but you already knew that."

"I can't believe you did it," Andromeda said. "Now, Teddy will have to change schools. Harry has been talking to Teddy about this wonderful school. You always were better than me with children, though. I loved Dora and I love Teddy, but I'd never have the patience with other people's kids. You'll do well."

"I-" Narcissa laughed. "I never thought I'd have to work, but working with children and filling up the manor with children is wonderful. I always wanted more children, but there's only one Malfoy per generation." She looked at Draco. "You can have as many as you want and if you want to stick to that stupid rule about the Malfoy name, then give them different last names. Black is fine."

"Sure, Mother." Draco didn't point out that he could barely afford to feed himself, let alone all these hypothetical children with a non-existent wife. Today was Christmas and they should enjoy themselves.

"We'll need to find some way to get children in and out. Hopefully, you can convince the house-elves to allow flooing again," Harry pointed out.

"I'll do more than that. It'll be absolutely wonderful, with magical rooms for children to explore. We can recreate different cities for geography, and everyone loves plush animals fighting to learn about battles. The Delacourt girl, the one who married one of the Weasleys. I'll have to see if she wants a job. French should be learned from a native speaker and she can bring her children here." Narcissa stopped when Draco started to laugh. "What is it?"

"You don't have to plan the entire school now. Instead, let's see what other surprises the house-elves have for us. Pilby mentioned a snow hill. We can go down with the sleds."

"Sleds? I want to go on the sled," Teddy said from across the room.

Narcissa laughed again. "I'm clearly being overruled by children. Let's go ride a sled."

***

Harry looked up from the table. "You're all dressed up this morning. Where are you going?"

"None of your business," Draco snapped, before going to get some tea. "What exactly are you doing home? It's eleven in the morning on a Wednesday in the middle of January when there are no holidays, shouldn't you be working?"

"Came home at two in the morning. I've been banned from going in today, so this is my breakfast." Harry watched Draco move around the kitchen for a bit. "So where are you going? You know I'll find out anyway. I don't even have to investigate; people feel the need to tell me what my boyfriend is doing."

Draco sat down and sighed. "If you must know. I'm going to St. Mungo's. I visit my father once a week."

"Really? How come I don't know?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Potter, how daft are you? Because I go in the middle of the day on random work days when you are at work. I didn't think that I had to tell you where I was going," Draco said, a little annoyed.

"Of course not, and I wasn't prying." Harry chuckled when Draco raised an eyebrow. "Maybe a little, but I was just curious. You don't have to tell me." He finished off his breakfast in silence and then got up to clean after himself. "I could come with you."

"Why? You hate my father," Draco said.

"I used to hate him. Now, there's nothing left to hate," Harry said, truthfully. "I'd go to be with you, because you've snapped at me three times in that many minutes and you haven't done that since school. It can't be easy. I know how hard it was for Neville, still is, and he never really knew his parents."

"I… didn't mean to snap; I'm sorry, and I wouldn't mind the company. It's not pretty, I hope you're prepared for that," Draco said.

Harry went to his room to get dressed and they Apparated to St. Mungo's. The Janus Thickey ward was as depressing as usual. From the physical appearance of the building to its residents, there was never anything bright. At this time of the day, the ward was even more depressing, with very few visitors.

"Hello, Father," Draco said pleasantly, but Lucius gave no signs of recognition. "I brought a friend today." 

Harry summoned two chairs for them and they sat down. Draco continued to talk about all sorts of nonsense. Some things were true, some were white lies and some were completely made up, but nothing got Lucius' reaction, until Draco mentioned Christmas.

"Father," Lucius said. His voice was coloured with confusion.

"Yes, I'm here," Draco said, sadly.

"I was good, wasn't I? I have pretty presents," Lucius said before going back to staring into nothing.

Draco sighed. "He goes in and out of this trance. There are very few occasions, when for some seconds, he knows who I am, but usually he thinks I'm his father. He seems to relive his childhood, but even that's temporary." 

Harry put an arm around Draco who leaned closer and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "It's not the Cruciatus. That's what the papers have said and we never contradicted them, but that's really not how the cruciatus works," he murmured. "It's true that he was ill from his time in Azkaban, but Voldemort cast something else on him. It's destroying his brain and eventually it will shut down even his involuntary responses. None of the Healers seem to know what hex it is, but it's degenerative. They have reached out to Hogwarts and the other schools in case one of their professors could help, but no one knows anything. The people likely able to help are dead or in Azkaban, and the rumour has spread. They know that the cure is for Father. If they know a counter-course, they aren't talking."

"How long does he have?" Harry asked.

"No one really knows. Their best guess is between one and five years, but it's pure guesswork. The seizures when he stops breathing are getting worse though. They have spells to alert them so they can help him, but if they become too frequent, that span will get a lot shorter," Draco said. "It's why I try to come every week. Mother can't. By the time the children are off to bed, it's too late for visitors. On a few occasions, she brought them here. They stayed in the visitor's tea room with me, but she couldn't stay long."

"This is why you said that sometimes you wished that-" Harry couldn't finish the sentence with Lucius right there. "It's hard. I honestly don't know what I'd wish if it were my parents, but I also didn't grow up with them."

"Do you miss them?" Draco asked, curious.

"I miss the possibility of them, the idea of having parents. It's hard to miss people I don't know. When we were in school, I had ideas of who they were based on what people told me and then I realized that it was all bull. They described them as these bigger than life heroes, but they were only twenty-one when they died. They were barely out of school when my mother got pregnant. She was twenty when I was born. They were just kids who were doing their best to survive. They didn't have time to become anything, because no matter what you do at that age, you do it because you feel like there's no other way."

"Says the man who killed the most powerful Dark wizard in history at the old age of seventeen," Draco said with a smile.

"Yes, but I wasn't being a hero. I knew that if I didn't kill him, he would kill me. I did what I had to, but it didn't make me some bigger than life hero. That's the Harry Potter others talk about. I was just a kid, Draco, and I know you get that, because you were just a kid, too, and you made sure to remind me that I wasn't so special, and you were right. I wasn't. Voldemort made me special when he targeted me, but I never had a choice. I had to be that hero if I wanted to live. It says nothing about who I am."

"The fact that you saved me, that you kept helping, that you still help me says that you are that hero, because heroes aren't those who save their friends, but those who help everyone," Draco said.

"I don't know that I helped everyone," Harry answered, with a smile. "I helped you. There was always something different about you. I don't like the word 'destiny', but I know that it's real, and maybe we've always been destiny."

"My destiny was to live a spoiled life, have the perfect wife and the one son. It didn't go so well."

Harry kissed the top of Draco's head. "Maybe that's what your parents thought you should have, but it's not what your destiny was. I don't think my parents would have picked my destiny either. I think they would have liked for me to have a boring and happy life, just like your mother said. In fact, I know she was right, because her present works. I haven't had a nightmare since Christmas."

Draco raised his head. "You have those, too, then? I was having them, because her Parent's Dream stopped working, but she's so busy, I didn't want to say. They got better when I moved in with you." The words were said softly, as if the admission pained Draco.

Harry smiled. "I saw your flat. I would have had nightmares there myself. I mean what else could it be? It's not like it could be that you feel safe around me?"

"No, it couldn't be that," Draco answered with a chuckle. He settled back against Harry, looking at Lucius. "Thank you for coming. It makes this easier."

"Of course. Anytime you want," Harry said.

Draco might not ask again, but knowing that he could made things a little easier.

***

February was unusually cold, with snow and rain. As Harry had promised, he took time off from work so that they could travel through Europe and they gladly left Britain for the warmer temperatures of the continent. It wasn't the type of trip Draco had ever experienced, but more the type that poor people did, trying to hit as many cities as possible in as little time possible, a real tour de force.

There was one day in Lisbon and one in Porto, leaving Portugal to spend, one day in Paris, then off to Spain for a day each in Seville, Madrid and Barcelona and finally four days in Italy to cover Venice, Milan, Florence and finally Rome. Even with Portkeys, spending a night in a different hotel, barely staying in the room to sleep, shower and get dressed was exhausting, but despite the fatigue, Draco had enjoyed himself.

On their last day, they were sitting on the stones of the Colosseum. It was after hours and only magic allowed you to get in. Unsurprisingly, they weren't the only wizards there. The weather in Italy was nothing like at home. Even though it was still winter, the sun had shone most of the day and now that the last rays were dying out and the artificial lights went on, it was still warm.

They sat together on one of the top levels, looking down to the arena. "Any random facts about the Colosseum?" Harry asked.

"Are you making fun of me?" Draco said.

"No, not at all. It's been fun visiting places with you. If I'd gone with Ron and Hermione, Ron would have told me about all the food and Hermione would have mentioned all the museums, but you know things about the history of wizards and they are interesting and they don't sound like I'm studying."

"Oh, thanks I guess. It's my mother's doing. She would make trips fun for me, but also educational in a way that it wasn't boring." He nodded. "And there is in fact an interesting fact. I mean there are many but one about wizards. The Romans arrested John the Apostle, brought him here. The Colosseum wasn't just about duels. They had shows, the circus, it was a whole day event. So on that day John was supposed to entertain the crowd by being dumped into a giant pot filled boiling hot oil. Against expectations, he was totally fine and left without any burns. Legend says that everyone present that day at the Colosseum converted to Christianity. The wizarding legend is that John was a wizard and he used his powers not to get burned."

"One of the apostles was a wizard?" Harry said.

"Twelve men walking around with a man that did miracles, would it be so incredible? Besides, no one knows for sure, but that's what the legend says," Draco said with a shrug. "It's not like the Statute of Secrecy was a thing back then."

Harry thought for a moment and then shrugged. "I guess it's possible." He put an arm around Draco. "I want to learn about all these things, travel more. It's my first time leaving the country, taking times off."

"Next time, we're doing less cities and staying longer." Draco stopped when he realized what he had said. "I mean… that was presumptuous of me. You should spend more time in each city."

Harry shook his head. "It's not presumptuous at all. I'd love for you to travel with me. Who knows what the future will be like. I'm sure we'll find a way to make it happen."

"Right, because with my profession, long trips around Europe are just within reach," Draco said, snorting.

"Draco, you don't have to do that anymore. You have the money I'm paying you, right? Your mother will work at the manor and you can live with her. Once you don't have to pay for room and board, you can take the time to find a job you like, something that makes you feel good. What did you want to do when you were young?"

"Other than rule the world?" Draco asked with a grin. "You'll laugh, but I wanted to be a Healer. Father said that it would never happen. Malfoys don't care for others, but it was always there at the back of my mind. Of course I never took my NEWTs, a little busy with a trial, so that dream went away."

"You have your OWLs. You could be a mediwizard," Harry pointed out.

Draco chuckled. "Can you see me helping as a mediwizard? Father wasn't completely wrong. Malfoys aren't really into helping others, not in the way mediwizards do. They are a lot more hands on than Healers."

"Mediwizards can become Healers. It just takes time and patience, and lots of time," Harry said.

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't matter. With my past, St. Mungo's wouldn't take me as either. I couldn't even get a job working in a shop. Trust me, I would have taken it if anyone had offered. I don't think that after I break up with the Saviour of the Wizarding World, my reputation will improve."

Harry just hummed, not wanting to spoil the mood. They could wait to discuss this when they weren't on vacation.

***

In a strangely warm March afternoon, only days after they had snow, with loud thunder echoing through London, Draco was sitting on the couch, reading the evening editions of the papers. His thoughts were as turbulent as the weather outside.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked as he stepped into the drawing room and saw the sea of newspapers.

"Nothing," Draco said, "and why are you home this early?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Nothing is wrong and you don't remember why I'm home, even though we've discussed that I had a double-"

"Shift yesterday and you weren't supposed to go in, but you wanted to ensure that all the paperwork was done right for the trial," Draco finished. "Nothing is wrong, I've been … distracted by all this."

"What exactly is this?" Harry waved his wand and vanished all the papers. "Seems like that was nothing."

"Don't be daft. Just because you made them disappear, the articles are still there," Draco answered.

"When will you learn that life is so much better when you don't read that rubbish? Stick with the Quibbler. It's a bit weird, I admit, and Lavender's articles about Karma and soulmates can get a bit sappy, but they are better than the alternative."

Harry sat down on the other end of the couch and Draco turned sideways, one leg crossed in front of him and one of the floor. "People read the Prophet, and you can't dismiss it so easily. They are talking about Mother and the school, and how this was a big conspiracy to get you to help."

"Right, which we had expected and we already have statements out, explaining why that's not the case. We have different groups speaking up in favour of the idea, and most importantly, women who are stuck home because there is no form of daycare support this," Harry said.

"And they are talking about us and how this can't last," Draco added.

"Which they have said all along, starting with when we attended our first ball together, and we knew it would happen," Harry added.

"They mentioned that we spent Christmas with Mother and we went to see father. The Rosiers are the only ones who could have told the papers that Mother spent Christmas with us, and thank Merlin, Mother didn't tell them where we went." He sighed. "Don't you see? They think it's serious. Either we, my parents and I, have successfully used the Imperius on you or you are pressuring my parents."

"To do _what_ , Draco? You seem to get upset about nothing and I know you better, so spit it out and then we can deal with it," Harry said.

"They said we're engaged. There are several articles all reporting the same thing." Draco pinched his nose. "We have to break up, Harry. This has been going on for too long. You've been paying me since October. We've been living together for over five months now. The papers think we're getting engaged. I was always ready to take the fall, but if we keep this up, once we break up, I won't be able to show my face in public for months, if ever."

"There's another solution," Harry said. "Have you considered the possibility that we don't have to break up?"

Draco's brows furrowed, and that was the only sign that he had heard Harry. "Have you lost your mind? You do remember that we're not really dating, right? Five months, you've been paying me to pretend to be your boyfriend and I've done basically nothing for you."

"You've done more than you think. You have remodeled most of this house, turning a house into a home, which means the world to me. You make me want to come home at night because I won't be alone. You make me want to go out and enjoy myself. Besides all of that, I don't think I've paid you to pretend to be my boyfriend," Harry said

"I've got the galleons to prove it," Draco answered.

"I paid you so you wouldn't work, because then the papers would report any arrest for prostitution, that's true, but I don't think I paid you to pretend. The deal was a few events." Harry moved closer and cupped Draco's face. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're practically dating, and I don't mean at the public events I have to attend. We spend holidays together, not because of the papers, but because we want to. We spend time with your parents, again, because we want to. We go out in the Muggle world. We see films together, we go dancing, we have dinner out. We do everything together, when you could have stayed in your room or avoided me outside of the public events."

"I- it's not-" Draco was visibly shaken by Harry's words. "I've never-"

"Dated as an adult? I know, and I've given you the time you need to figure things out. Hell, maybe a better man would have given you more, but I am a Gryffindor and I can't sit back and watch you tie yourself in knots over this break up. You've slowly been pulling away for weeks now, but you don't have to. We can keep doing this _if_ it's what you want."

"I…" Draco got up and started pacing, before going to the window and looking down to the Muggle street. When he had moved into Grimmauld Plase, it had seemed so foreign. He was used to the large ground at the estate, miles of land that separated him from the world. Now, the sight of people outside was calming and almost familiar. In fact, everything in here was calming and familiar, and that was the problem. "I hated you so much in school, but the last few years, with the craziness happening, I still felt safe when you were around. My friends used to say that I was obsessed with you. Blaise once said that maybe it wasn't hate, and it was okay if it was something different. He never added more. Slytherins don't add more. Then you went away and my life was filled with instability. You show up again and I'm safe again." 

He turned around and stared at Harry for a moment. "The old me would have jumped at the chance. You have money, I don't have to do anything in life, lounge around and you pay for everything. I mean I get paid for sex. This is a walk in the park in comparison." He raised a finger when Harry started to talk. "I can't do that. I haven't done what I want, truly want for a long time. Since Voldemort came into my life, I've done what I had to survive. I don't want you to be something I do to survive, and I don't know how to do it differently when we got ourselves in this situation."

"I've been thinking about that, because I don't want you to do things because I'm paying," Harry said, smiling at the way Draco raised his eyebrow. "You do realise that I am perfectly able to plan when I have to, right? I do undercover work and it's all about planning and patience. I just seem to lose my patience when you're involved."

"So what have you concluded?" Draco asked.

"You keep living here for now, rent free, and I will pay for fancy robes if we need to go somewhere official. You keep your stipend, but you do your own shopping from now on, unless it's something related to the house. You look for a job, a real job and I'll help you get it, because I _know_ you can be good at anything you set your mind to. We meet my friends and your friends, and once you are settled, you tell me if you still want to date," Harry said. "Until then, we keep things the way they are. They want to write about engagements, let them. They want to say that we secretly got married in another country, ignore it. We'll do our thing and we'll let them guess."

"You make it sound so easy: get a job, meet friends. I haven't been able to do any of that since school," Draco pointed out.

Harry smiled. "But now you have me in your corner. I won't let you give up, because you do deserve a chance. You protected me, your mother protected me. You are as much part of the reason why I was able to destroy him than my friends are. I won't let people who were safely sitting in their houses pass judgement. They weren't there, they chose to do nothing and now they don't get to judge those who were involved. So friends, job, independence and then we can totally say we're together and mean it."

"You are that certain that I'll want to date you," Draco said with a tiny smile.

"Aren't I always?" He got up from the couch. Getting closer to Draco, Harry put his arms around the other man. "I know I'm right, because I know what you can do, but also because I know that we've never been able to stay away from each other. What we've done these past five months hasn't been the result of a job offer, but because we like being with one another. You'll see."

***

After that discussion, their relationship changed once more. Draco knew that he would have to rely on the money he had saved for the past five months, and while he didn't have many expenses while living with Harry, it gave him an incentive to go out and look for a job, even though he knew that he'd have to deal with plenty of rejections. It was a tiny change, but it seemed to put them on a more equal footing. 

How they related to each other was a lot easier to deal with than having to deal with other people. Their first test came on the first of April, when they were set to go to George's birthday party.

"You don't have to be nervous," Harry said as they stood just outside George's house.

Draco snorted. "I'm not nervous, I'm terrified. The entire Weasley clan, lots of Gryffindor friends. I'll be loved."

Harry chuckled. "There are a few people from other Houses."

"That doesn't make me feel better. I've met Lovegood a few times after the war and she's always been so bloody nice. It's unnerving." Draco took a deep breath. "All right, let's go in."

Draco hadn't been wrong and it was mostly Gryffindors, but everyone was civil. He avoided Arthur Weasley, since the animosity with his family was famous. He ended up spending time with Ron and Hermione who seemed to do anything to protect Harry and apparently that included dealing with Draco.

"Got refills," Harry said as he joined Draco and his friends. "I double checked that there was nothing in the wine." George was not the prankster that he used to be without his brother, but it didn't hurt to check. "So what are we talking about?"

"I said that if Ginny doesn't arrive soon, game or no game, Mum will kill her," Ron said.

Harry laughed. "But George won't. She had a six-hour game and they won. George will be more thrilled to hear all about it than worry about her being late."

"Molly is just unhappy that Ginny is not married and pregnant. She asked me about twenty times tonight when we'll have our first," Hermione said with a sigh. "You'd think with six children, four daughters-in-law, seven grandchildren, she'd had enough, but no, she's on me and Ginny."

"Oi, she bothers me all the time, too," Ron said. "Apparently there must be something wrong with me if you aren't pregnant."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not explaining birth control to your mother. I have said that with this new school, especially if they expand to take children two and up, I will consider it."

"Really?" Ron hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. "That's brilliant, Hermione and you know we can find a solution before. Mum would love-"

"Don't you even suggest that. I love her, but she's not raising our children, especially if we have girls. Imagine her telling our daughters that they should be good housewives." Hermione shook her head. "We'll find another way."

Whatever Ron was about to say, it was drowned by loud cheers and clapping as Ginny entered the house and took a bow, grinning. 

"Is that Blaise?" Draco asked.

"Oh yeah apparently they… ehm… met up after her Champions League game in France two weeks ago," Ron said.

Hermione grinned. "Perfect, Molly will be too worried about a casual relationship with someone who lives out of the country to bother me for the rest of the night."

"That is Blaise," Draco repeated.

"Yes, Draco, we got it," Harry said, amused. "Is there a problem?"

Draco shook his head. "It's just- He doesn't even _like_ Quidditch, he's never around and didn't even go to Pansy's wedding."

"You didn't go to Parkinson's wedding," Harry said with a frown.

"Yes, but I wasn't wanted there. It was right after and my … occupation had become known. You can understand why she wouldn't want me there."

"I do, because she's a selfish bitch and always was. You were her friend. You still think of her as your friend and she does whatever is best for her. Zabini made the right choice not to go," Harry said, coldly.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "You manage to find something positive about everyone, but you draw the line at Pansy. That makes no sense."

Harry snorted. "She tried to hand me over, because I was an inconvenience to her. Excuse me for not liking her."

"The Death Eaters wanted you dead too," Draco pointed out.

"And they are dead or in Azkban or I'm trying to arrest the few that escaped. Trust me, I have nothing nice to say about them."

Draco almost mentioned that his father was neither dead nor in Azkaban, but he got interrupted. 

"Harry, Malfoy, how awesome am I?" Ginny said with a grin. 

"Great game, Gin," Harry answered.

"Perfect answer! Now can you teach Blaise how to properly answer?" she said.

Draco snorted. "Someone will need to teach him the game first."

"I'll have you know that I know plenty about Quidditch. I've had years dealing with you talking about it," Blaise said, before giving Draco a one-arm hug. "Good to see you."

Draco tensed. "Is it? Actually don't answer that. If you'll excuse me, I need something to drink," he said, politely even though he had a full drink in his hand, and left the little group.

"That went well," Ginny said. "Why are you dating him again, Harry? He's as prickly as he ever was."

"He's not. He just has lousy friends that don't deserve to be called that," Harry said, starting at Blaise. "In fact, in six months that we've been together, none of his friends have written or firecalled. It's almost like they didn't care."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Potter. In fact, this is none of your bloody business. Go find someone to rescue or something," Blaise said.

"This is very much my business. Draco is my business. His happiness is my business-"

"Harry," Hermione started with a warning tone.

"What? I'm telling the truth. You two would never leave me alone. Hell, I had a Dark wizard trying to kill me and you stuck by me, through thick and thin and we were children. If I needed something, you two were there. Draco's friends were there when he had money and got them brooms and sweets from home and when things got tough, they disappeared." 

"And what? Were you around?" Blaise said with a snort. "What could we, common mortals, do that the Saviour couldn't do? I didn't see you ensuring that he was treated fairly. Or what? You thought they'd give him a job because _I_ said so."

"Is that your excuse? You didn't have to do anything, because the rest of the world didn't help Draco? "He took a step forward. "You are not his friend, because a friend would there to help."

"You and your bloody Gryffindor id-," Blaise put a hand on Harry's shoulder, but he pulled away abruptly. "What the fuck? Did you just hex me?"

"Do not touch me or next time you'll feel a lot more pain," Harry hissed.

"Potter, would you stop?" Draco said as he rushed back and physically put himself between Blaise and Harry. "Whatever you think you're doing, you can't kill him."

"I wasn't going to kill him," Harry said, eyes still on Blaise.

"Fine, you can't hex him without a reason, although Merlin knows that they'd back you up if you said that the reason is that you don't like the colour of his shirt, and look at me when I'm talking to you!" Draco waited until they made eye contact, before running a hand up Harry's arm. "You need to relax. I've seen that look on your face before and it never ends well for the person on the other side of your wand. Let's get some fresh air."

Harry stared for a moment, before nodding. He took Draco's hand and led him to the garden. The stars were bright in the clear sky and they both looked up without speaking for a few minutes.

It was Draco that broke off the silence first. "That wasn't about me and Blaise."

"It started that way," Harry said with a sigh. "Then he touched me."

"I touch you all the time," Draco pointed out.

"You don't count. Ron and Hermione touch me, it's fine," Harry said.

"I'm sure random people touch you. You're the Chosen One," Draco said. His eyes didn't move from Harry as they spoke. "What's really going on?"

"I know you don't believe me, but he touched me. Sometimes it's okay, but right now, I was already angry, then talking about the war, and we've had a series of cases at work and he touched me, and it was like being back there, fighting. I didn't even think about the spell. I just- I did it unconsciously."

"That didn't seem bad enough. Are things that bad at work? I know you've been pulling a lot of double shifts, pushing for this school, talking about new resentments, and I don't ask, but you've been exhausted." Draco moved hesitantly and put an arm around Harry. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I can't, not about work." He rested his head against Draco's shoulder. "You know that arrest I made months ago? Nott? He wasn't working alone. No one believes me, but I know in my gut that something is brewing. Everyone else seems to think that I'm paranoid. Only Ron is backing me up, and it's like being back then."

"I believe you. I trust your instincts, but Blaise isn't involved. That's why he left. He didn't want to be involved with any of it, didn't want people to try and arrange marriages to clean up their names. He tried to stay out of it and left the country." Draco kissed Harry's temple. "It hurts that he could forget me so easily, but I understand him. I don't need you to hex him for me. It certainly won't help our friendship."

Harry raised his head and gave Draco a lopsided smile. "And you thought you'd cause a scene at this party. I… I'll apologise, all right?"

Draco shrugged. "You don't have to. I doubt Blaise cares about your opinion of him. Just don't hex him, okay? And _we_ can talk about this at home. I don't need to know about the cases, but you can't start snapping at people and I want to help you. If we want to do this dating thing, it can't be a one-way street. You can be the Saviour for the rest of the world, but you can be human with me."

Harry smiled, before kissing him softly. "Thank you, I'm not really good at asking for help, in case it wasn't obvious, but I appreciate it. And, we should probably go back inside, before they send out a rescue party. I know there will be questions," Harry said.

Draco laughed. "Granger was staring so hard that I'm surprised she didn't freeze you with her eyes, and I'm sure they have questions, because they care."

"I know. At least they won't ask too many questions. Will you talk to Zabini?"

Draco nodded. "I always planned to. I was only going to get something stronger than that punch you got me. I needed some time, that's all. You don't need to always play the White Knight."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know how to act differently anymore, not just with you, but everyone. I'll try to back off a little."

"Good, because I will hex your balls off if you keep treating me like the damsel in distress."

Harry grinned. "You know, six months ago, you wouldn't have cared if I fought your battles for you."

"Six months ago, I was planning on taking as much as I needed from you to survive. Now… I really enjoy spending time with you. I look forward to our dates, especially the ones in the Muggle world where no one knows us." Draco kissed him softly, before whispering against Harry's lips: "Six months ago I wasn't falling for you."

Harry curled his fingers around Draco's hips, big grin on his face. "That's good, because I've been falling for you for the past six months. Or maybe since we were eleven. I don't even know anymore, and I don't care. Maybe we've always been obsessed."

"Maybe it's destiny?" Draco said, remembering the words Harry had said before.

"Maybe… we really should go inside."

"I know." Draco made no move to go. "I'd rather stay with you, but we are meant to talk to people. We can do this."

"We can do anything together." Harry clasped Draco's hand. "Here we go."

***

"Here you are." Harry entered the living room that they hadn't had until about a month ago. Draco had explained that the drawing room was nice, but it was meant for guests. So were the new ballroom and the music rooms that had replaced the bedrooms on the second floor. When they were ever going to use them, it was a mystery.

Draco was sitting sideways, legs stretched over the couch and back resting against the arm rest. He closed the book he was reading and put it on the coffee table. "Here I am. You look terrible. Come and sit down."

Harry didn't wait to be asked a second time, but went to the couch. He smacked Draco's leg gently, pushing it off the couch and sat down, back resting against Draco's chest. Soon their legs were intertwined. 

Draco rubbed Harry's shoulders. "You're tense. Can you talk about it?"

"Not really, besides I think even Ron is starting to think that I'm imagining things, so there might not be anything to talk about. I just _know_ that there's something more going on," he said with a sigh.

"Well, since you can't talk about it, then we can talk about something more pleasant. Mother has plenty of ideas about the school," he said, changing the subject. His hands stayed on Harry, kneading the tense muscles with strong hands, while Harry relaxed against him. "She can't wait for June when she can start working on the different rooms." 

Harry laughed. "Now I know who you take after. You two love decorating homes."

"Nonsense, what she's doing isn't decorating, but magic. I'll be amazing, you'll see." Draco planted a soft kiss on the side of Harry's neck, chuckling when he heard the happy sigh from Harry. "I have a surprise."

"Really? Tell me it's a good surprise, otherwise it can wait until the morning," Harry answered.

"It's… maybe not a surprise, but definitely good news. I-" Draco still couldn't believe the news. He had been shocked when he had received the owl. "You know how I've been talking to St. Mungo's about their September admissions."

"And I still think that it's a brilliant idea," Harry answered.

"St. Mungo's seems to agree with you. Or at the very least they don't think that it's a terrible idea, possibly because I'm dating the Chosen One, but I'll take it. Despite how old my OWLs are, I've been accepted to start training as a mediwizard in the fall," he said.

Harry sat up and looked at Draco. "You don't seem very excited. In fact, you sound like you're about to have a lesson with Snape."

"I liked lessons with Snape," Draco pointed out.

Harry waved a hand. "You know what I mean. A lesson with Hagrid with lots of wild animals around. Better? So what's the matter?"

Draco shrugged. "The students will be eighteen and I'll be twenty-six. They weren't even in school during our seventh year. I'll be so old."

Harry snorted. "I know what you mean. I get the same feeling when I see the new trainees."

"Yes, but you practically run the Aurors. I'll be at their level." He sighed. "It's not just that. Mother will set up the school, I'll have a job that requires long hours at the start and you're barely home as it is. If I live in the manor, we'll never see each other."

Harry flashed him a bright smile. "Is that what's worrying you? Draco, you don't have to be subtle with me. If you want to stay here, you know that I'd love to have you here. You have your room, I have my room, and we get to spend time together. I wasn't lying when I said that I love knowing that I'm coming home to someone."

"You sure? I've been imposing," Draco said.

Harry shook his head. "You haven't. I want you here, and really this solves the problem with our break-up. We simply won't break up, and the papers can say anything." He got up suddenly and extended a hand in Draco's direction. "Come on, let's get into Muggle clothes and let's celebrate."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're tired and you look like you're about to pass out."

"Nonsense. This is good and we should celebrate. Besides, we must eat, might as well do it somewhere nice. Come on, I'm taking you out."

***

Draco ran through the glass window that hid St. Mungo's entrance, only slowing down when his steps echoed in the silent reception room. It was after hours on a warm May evening and except for a few people waiting to be seen, the reception area was deserted. The Welcoming Witch nodded at him, but didn't ask where he was going. Draco didn't know if she knew about Harry or assumed that there was a problem with his father. Either way, he was given access and he went upstairs to the Aurors' private room.

"Weasley," he said as he stepped in and saw the man standing there. He was the only one here, which didn't bide well. "What's going on? Why is he petrified?"

"Healers don't know what's wrong with him. He kept getting deep cuts and bleeding out, faster than they could cure him. They are researching it, Secter something. They never heard of it," Ron said.

Draco snorted. "They don't seem to know much of anything when it comes to the Dark arts, do they? Kreacher!" He waited until the house-elf became visible. "I need you to go to the house. Get me the ditany. Then I need the blue potion, third shelf and the amber one on the bottom shelf. One of each will do." While he waited for the house-elf to return with the potions, he ran his finger over Harry, much like he would have done with a wand, if he had one. "It's the Sectumsempra. Sectum means sever and sempra from sempre, always, meaning it keeps cutting."

"Of course you'd know of it," Ron said.

"Yes, I learned it when Harry cast it on me in Sixth Year." Draco stared at Ron. "Don't even pretend that he was the saint people thought he was."

"That's the famous hex that got him detention for the year with Snape? Shit- I mean I knew it was bad, but it seemed… right that he cast it on you, especially since he got detention." Ron rubbed the back of his head. "We really were idiots, weren't we?"

"Indeed we were," Draco said with a sigh. "Some of us more than others." Kreacher reappeared with what he'd been asked and left as soon as Draco thanked him. "Right, let's see if I can fix this."

"What do you think you are doing?" A man in his eighties with long white hair and beard glared at Draco. He reminded Draco of Dumbledore.

"I don't know who you are." He had met all of the Healers that specialised in spell injuries because of his father and he'd never met this men. "But I'm saving him, because I know from personal experience how little knowledge the Healers here have when it comes to the Dark Arts." He ignored the old man and turned to Harry. "I know you can hear me and you know how this goes. I'll end the spell, and it will be painful, really bloody painful, but I can stop it. I promise I'll go as fast as I can."

"If you are wrong, he'll die," the old man said. 

"I'm not wrong. _Finite Incantatem_!" As soon as the spell ended, Harry screamed while his flesh was slashed open. Draco ignored the blood and began tracing the injuries with his finger while singing the words that Snape had taught him long ago. The hardest part was pushing the screams away and concentrating on the counter-course. It took ten long minutes before every cut was closed and the curse was gone. "Here, I have dittany for the scars and a potion for the pain."

"Do you always have such potions at your disposal, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco continued his ministrations while answering. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am and I don't know who you are, but yes, I have all of this and more at home. Professor Snape taught me to be well prepared and I spent my seventh year studying with him."

"But you didn't take your NEWTs," the man said.

Harry finished the potion and sat up. "You know he didn't, Healer Lufkin. On the other hand, he knew how to cure me and none of you did and now we can go home."

Draco tensed up when he heard the name. Lufkin wasn't just a healer. He was the man in charge of the entire hospital. Fuck, his entire training was now fucked because of his arrogance, but he didn't show his frustration. After all, he would have done it all over again if he had to, because he would not let Harry die to keep his job.

"He did indeed," Lufkin said. "It seems that he did such a good job that you feel well enough to tell me that you want to leave, but let me send someone over to ensure there's nothing else wrong and then you can go." He looked at Draco. "I look forward to seeing what else you can do."

Draco dropped his head on Harry's shoulder who put an arm around him. "He'll get me fired, won't he?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"Draco has been admitted into the mediwizard training in September," Harry said with pride. "And he won't get you fired for being brilliant. You might not want to insult _all_ of the Healers," he added with a chuckle.

"It's not my fault that they don't know the Dark Arts." He raised his head and smiled. "I'm glad we know them. Never would have known this without you."

"I hexed you so you could save me when I got hexed. Told you, it's destiny," Harry whispered.

"Merlin's balls, I'm gagging," Ron said. "Could you two please stop it? Because I'm about to vomit. And I _knew_ it, I told Hermione after George's birthday party that you weren't pretending. Hell, I knew it when you said it was _perfect_ for him to be your pretend boyfriend that it would end up being real."

Draco laughed. "I can't do much about Potter's ability to pretend, but we are in the hospital. I'm sure plenty of people could help if you get sick." He looked at Harry. "So now that you aren't dying, what the hell happened? People don't go around casting the Sectumsempra. Very few even know it."

"The idiot decided to take on five potential Dark wizards without waiting for back-up. That's what happened. He's lucky he's alive. If we hadn't gotten there at that precise moment, he'd have bled out," Ron said.

"They were about to leave and we would have lost them. Besides, they aren't potential Dark wizards, they _are_ Dark wizards and if I had lost them, no one would have believed me. Hard to argue with me when I'm bleeding out. Besides, I managed to immobilize three and you lot got the other two. One evening, all of them were arrested and it's now finally over," Harry said.

"Until the next time," Ron mumbled.

Draco signed. "I'd say that you should think before acting, but I know you thought about it and figured out that the risk to you was not as important as the benefit to the world, because you can't help yourself. It doesn't matter if you are the Chosen One, because you will always be the bloody Saviour, but for fuck's sake, Potter, a little survival instinct wouldn't hurt. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I can't be your boyfriend if you're dead."

Harry bit his lip, trying not to laugh, but gave it up pretty soon. "All right, I'll stay alive so I don't inconvenience you. Now, let's go home."

"We're waiting for the Healer," Ron reminded him.

"I know, but since he'll know less than Draco, I can just go home. They can send a letter about how upset they are with me in the morning and I can't ignore it." He got up from the bed and grabbed his wand from the night stand. "Right, then, are you two staying?"

Draco rolled his eyes. He would teach Harry to stay live, but it'd take time. For now, they could go home.

***

It was Draco's birthday today and they had chosen to dine in the Muggle world to have privacy. They had gone to the cinema to watch something called _X-Men: The Last Stand_. Draco had stopped asking how Muggles did those things, although it was pretty obvious that some of the things that happened on screen were impossible indeed. Still, the film was entertaining enough and provided a view of how Muggles probably saw magic.

After the movie, they went to dinner at a nearby restaurant. It was French, since they knew Draco liked it, leaving experimentations for days other than his birthday. After that, they decided to walk home. The night was warm and Draco had gotten used to the Muggles around him. The noises from cars and buses didn't unnerve him anymore and he knew that he could defend himself easily, not that he had ever been attacked by Muggles.

"You've been in your own world for a while. What's gotten into you?" Harry asked after they walked in silence for a good ten minutes.

"I was at the hospital this morning, to spend some time with Father for my birthday, not that he knows, but anyway Lufkin stopped me. He doesn't want me in the mediwizard program," Draco said.

"That's insane. It's not your fault you know things they don't know, I'll-"

"Stop, I'm not done," Draco said with a huff. "He wants me to try for the Healer program. He's given me until the twentieth of August to study and then he wants me to take the test mediwizards take to get into the Healer program. If I pass, then I'll start as a Healer trainee."

Harry frowned. "Isn't that good news?"

"It is. It's just… this would have never happened if it weren't for you," Draco pointed out.

Harry snorted. "I assure you that I didn't get myself hexed so you could save the day."

"I didn't think you had. I just- I keep thinking about it, and maybe it is destiny or maybe our lives are so intertwined that we can't be without each other, but our lives are better when we are together. Maybe not the first years we were in school, but now, I know my life is much better with you in it, and…" Draco stopped abruptly.

Harry took Draco's hand and moved closer. "Draco, whatever it is, it's fine. You can tell me and we'll come up with a solution together."

"There's nothing wrong, that's the problem. I keep waiting for things to go pears up, for us to argue, or for your friends to convince you that this is insane, or for my mother to say that it's not the Malfoy way, but nothing happens, and I know I'm acting like a Slytherin, keeping a barrier up to protect myself for when things eventually turn sour," Draco explained.

"Draco, we're two very stubborn people. I'm sure that at some point we'll argue, but that doesn't mean that it's the end of us. We argue, we make up, it's fine," Harry reassured him.

"I'm finally starting to believe that you're right, and I'm tired of living with one foot out of the door, waiting for you to wake up and tell me that you don't want to be with me. Let's face it, you are- There's no one like you, no one in your league, and I've… made plenty of mistakes before becoming a whore-"

"Stop. You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that. I don't like that word; I don't like that it's used to denigrate people." Harry said. "Draco, you need to stop comparing us. This isn't some game to prove who's worth more. What matters is that we know and understand each other, and that you get me in a way no one else does. You treat me like a normal person and not like some idealised version. I won't wake up and kick you out, because I realised a while ago that I love you and my life is so much better with you in it."

"I… believe you. It's taken me sometimes to believe you, but I do, and that's why-" Draco smiled when Harry squeezed his hand in encouragement. "I know this sounds ridiculous considering my previous profession and I can't believe it's so hard to say it, but I want to have sex with you. I've never had sex with anyone unless money was involved and I just want… I need to see how it is with us, just us, for no reason other than we want to. Is that stupid?"

Harry shook his head. "No, of course not. It makes perfect sense. Come on, we're almost home." He rubbed the back of Draco's hand with his thumb, smiling at him.

"You don't have to pet me like some skittish animal," Draco said amused. "I probably know more about sex than you."

"Possibly, but that's irrelevant, because I don't want to have sex. I want to make love to you," Harry said with a grin.

"You're so cheesy, but then you are a Gryffindor," Draco answered, but he moved closer to Harry as they took the last steps to reach the house.

They walked upstairs, hand in hand, and Draco's heart was speeding fast. No matter how much his brain tried to convince him that it was no different than all the other times, he couldn't lie to himself. The one and only time he had slept with Harry, it had been different, and back then, it had still been about the money. He couldn't even imagine how it would be tonight.

Harry led them into the master bedroom. It had been completely redone in warm tones. The sheets and duvet were different shades of blue that matched the curtains. These weren't things he noticed at the moment, but he knew the room, because he had taken great care in selecting each item, wanting to repay Harry in the only way he knew how. "When I decorated this room, I didn't think I'd be spending time here."

"If I have any say in it, you'll be moving in here," Harry said with a grin.

"I love how you're never rushing, always taking your time and enjoying the moment," Draco joked.

"Oh yes, planning and patience are the traits that define me." Harry showed just how much patience he had by removing his clothes while he talked. He was really good at undressing himself quickly, a skill he had honed by too many night returning home very late and needing to get some sleep.

"Foreplay really isn't your thing, is it?" Draco said, chuckling, but he began taking his jacket off, and then moving to his shirt.

"Oh I don't mind foreplay if we're already naked and touching, but let me tell you something. I've never found a sexy way to take my clothes off, not like in the films, where people manage to coordinate undressing each other, while kissing." Harry shook his head. "Tried it. It ended up being more painful, stepped on each other's toes, banging teeth together. It was a disaster. Never tried it again."

Draco tried not to laugh, biting his lip as he moved closer and swatted Harry's hands away. "It can be done if you have a little patience." He started to unbutton Harry's shirt and kissed the newly exposed skin, taking his time despite the fact that Harry was reaching for his own trousers to speed things up. "Let me." His fingers deftly opened the trousers, before pushing them down past Harry's hips, his fingers moving under Harry's pants and gliding over hidden skin, before dropping to his knees.

"Stop!" 

The command made Draco tense up and he looked up toward Harry. "What's wrong?"

Harry took Draco's hand. "Get up, please. Maybe with time, we'll get there, but I can't see you on your knees. I don't want this to be anything like what you were doing."

Draco smiled. "It wouldn't be. I want to do this."

"Then let's do it in bed, please."

Draco nodded, before getting up. "I didn't mean to make things weird. I'm sorry."

Harry cupped his cheeks gently and pressed their lips together. "Don't apologise. You've done nothing wrong. I just… I want to be the one to take care of you for once, okay?"

Draco chuckled in answer. Even that first time, Harry had taken control. Perhaps Draco should have figured it out then that it would be different. He was always in control of the situation, only giving the illusion of surrender, but he'd felt safe with Harry. He'd put it down to the fact that Harry defied all the rules, which was partly true. "Hate to break it to you, Potter, but you were leading the first time around."

Harry gave him a one-shoulder shrug. "Can't help myself, and how about you call me by my first name? I get that it's one of our little traditions-"

"You've been calling me by my first name," Draco said, the realisation dawning on him. "It started when you met my mother." Six months now, something else he should have paid attention to, but it was become apparent that he had a blind spot when it came to Harry.

"I've been calling by your first name," Harry repeated with an amused smile. "Took you long enough to figure that one out. I thought you were the smart one."

Draco snorted. "Keep it going and see if you're getting laid."

Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pulled him closer, their bodies touching as Harry kissed him deeply, leaving Draco breathless. "I'll keep going all right," Harry breathed against the sensitive skin of Draco's neck. "Come on, let's get in bed."

"I thought we were getting naked," Draco teased, feeling playful in a way he never did when sex was involved.

Harry waived a hand and their clothes vanished. "There, how's that for patience?"

Draco laughed lightly. "Wands really are useless in this house, aren't they?"

"Nah, we still need them so we don't scare people when we cast wandless spells," Harry answered with a grin. 

"Always worried about the world," Draco said.

Harry kissed Draco softly. "Right now, I only care about you." He took Draco's hand and led him to the bed. 

Draco felt butterflies in his stomach as they laid down, Harry covering his body as he began exploring it with exquisite attention. Draco should be used to sex, but his skin was tingling from every touch and his mind, usually so sharp and focused, was slowly shutting down, giving his body permission to enjoy the gentle touches and kisses that peppered his skin. 

Harry seemed intent on covering every part of his body with his mouth. Open mouth kisses turned into sucking and the scrape of teeth. Shocks of pleasure jolted through him as Harry tortured his nipples in the sweetest way. "No one has ever done that," he whispered.

Harry stretched up and kissed Draco, before tugging at his bottom lip playfully. "I'll do a lot of things no one has done. If there's anything you don't like, you tell me, okay? Because this is about us feeling good."

"I'm not exactly doing much at the moment," Draco answered with a snort.

"Oh Draco, you're doing more than you know. The way you react, the little sounds you make, the warmth of your skin." Harry took Draco's hand and brought it to his own hard cock. "Feel this. I'm this hard just by the way you react to me."

"You get off on power?" Draco asked, even though that didn't really sound right. Harry had had plenty of time to use his power and hadn't.

"I get off on making you feel good," Harry answered, and that made a lot more sense to Draco. "Now, can you stop planning and worrying for a little? I know that's your thing, but you can't plan sex."

"Says you," Draco murmured. He'd spent years planning every touch and kiss to make sure the other person came quickly so he could move on. "You know I don't need lots of foreplay. You can just get on with it if you want to. You won't hurt me and I think… I'd like to feel it later."

Harry looked sad for a moment. "Draco, I want you to feel good, to enjoy sex and not rush through it. Besides, you don't have to feel it later, because I'm not going anywhere. You have me for as long as you want me and we can do this as many times as you like. You get that, right?"

Draco shrugged. "My brain knows it. I trust you not to lie to me, but you disappeared from my life once and I know it was totally different, but part of me is still afraid that this will end and I'll be alone again."

Harry kissed Draco's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere. The only thing that will disappear is your fear, but not by making you feel pain. Let's try my way, okay?"

He trusted Harry in ways that he didn't trust himself and when he nodded his consent, he should have been prepared for the onslaught of sensations, but he wasn't. Harry redoubled his attention, kissing, licking, biting every inch of his body, except his cock. His pale skin turned red from the touching and the heat building inside him. As he surrendered to pleasure, his cock hardened against his stomach. "Harry." He felt the rumble of Harry's laughter against his stomach. "You're a bloody tease."

"I always deliver," Harry said with a grin, before reaching for the nightstand. "All right, no more torture."

Draco looked at the vial of lube. "Did you have it ready for me?"

Harry snorted. "I'm not exactly a saint and last time we had sex was back in September. This makes jerking off a lot nicer."

"You…" Draco propped himself up on his elbows. "Why haven't you had sex?"

"Are we really having this discussion while we're both hard? For Merlin's sake, I can't stop a moment that you start thinking again," Harry said, shaking his head. "And because… I don't know. First I was busy with the case, and I'm not really big on one-night stands, and then I knew I was falling for you, so I waited, and I'm glad. Now, can I go back to shagging? Because I'd really like to get to that part before you come up with something else."

"I wouldn't- All right, I would. Carry on, then." Draco looked at Harry with a smiled, before lying back down. It was the right choice, because a moment later, he felt a finger pressed against his opening. He braced himself for the pain, but there was none. 

Harry moved slowly, finger teasing Draco open with gentle thrusts. It seemed to go on forever, until Draco was pushing against the finger, urging Harry to move faster. Do more. Harry seemed to have forgotten that he was the impatient one, and instead took his time until Draco became incoherent, words having no meaning in a world made of desire and pleasure.

He was so lost that he felt in a daze, barely understanding why those infuriating fingers that seemed to know his body intimately were suddenly gone. He barely had time to ask what was happening that Harry's cock was pressing against him. Harry laced their fingers together, their eyes locked and as Harry moved inside him, Draco felt like they were one thing: body and soul linked together.

"Do it. I know you can," Harry whispered. "See what's in my mind."

Draco hesitated, but Harry never looked away and he knew that Harry really meant it. He whispered the spell, _Legilimens_ , and then he was in Harry's mind. Conscious thought was the easiest one. Love, care, a need to make Draco happy, all right there on the surface as Harry began to rock his hips, their bodies moving against each other in a sinuous and tender dance. Draco delved deeper, a chaos of feelings and thoughts hidden in the subconscious. Harry's own fear of not being wanted, the need for family, the fear of loss. They were so different and yet at their core so very similar.

Draco ended the spell, unable to keep the concentration as the physical needs overrode the mental one. "I'm not leaving you either," Draco said. "Oh God- That felt so good."

Harry grunted. "I'm close." He let go of Draco's hand and wrapped his fingers around Draco's cock, but Draco refused to let go and covered Harry's hand with his. Words became impossible with each new thrust, as pleasure rolled through them like waves. 

Draco came first, with a soft sound that showed some of his surprise at how good sex could be, shaking in the aftermath of such powerful sensations, while Harry kept moving inside him. His body was hypersensitive and each stroke took served to anchor him to reality, until he felt Harry come inside him, before he collapsed on top of Draco.

His fingers ran gently through Harry's messy hair letting their breathing return to normal, while a million thoughts ran through his mind. From how good this had been, the trust Harry had shown, the insecurities he'd found well hidden beneath Harry's natural confidence.

"I can hear you thinking," Harry said amused, before he moved off of Draco. He cast a cleaning spell and rested an arm across Draco's body. "What is it?"

Draco turned his head to look at Harry while he covered Harry's hand with his. "I love you?'

"You sound a little unsure there," Harry said with the biggest smile.

"I'm using your first name. That's basically a proposal," Draco said, chuckling.

"Technically, you still haven't said my name, and that's going to have to wait until I get the Wizengamot to change the law. You have to give me a couple of weeks at the very last," Harry answered, laughing.

Draco groaned. "I just gave you your next cause, _Harry_ , didn't I?"

Harry kissed him gently. "Nah, that was always in the plans. I was waiting for you to think your way through what I know instinctively, because I love you, too, and we will make it official and we'll find a way to have children, and we will have the happiest life."

"Because I'm the perfect boyfriend," Draco said, remembering what Ron had said.

"Harry Potter and the perfect boyfriend. It can be the title of Skeeter's next book," Harry said, laughing. "I'll even approve of this one."

Draco didn't know about a book, but he certainly approved of them having the happiest life.


End file.
